


Perfect Boys, With Perfect Lives...

by fOreverer



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: (Same goes for the Pete/Ryan), (The Petekey is only a mention really sorry I'm not trying to mislead anyone), Angst, Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, Canon Universe, Depression, Drug Use, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, OCD, Overdosing, Pete Wentz's Suicide Attempt (Best Buy Incident), Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, body image issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 49,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fOreverer/pseuds/fOreverer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was Joe who first saw the things that Pete tried so hard to hide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe gets more than he bargained for, in a service station restroom.

Joe had always been grateful that it was Pete and Patrick’s friendship that garnered the most attention. In many ways it was Pete’s fault- he had created hype in the early days-portraying him and Patrick as kindred spirits, _soulmates even_ (quite possibly true) and it had never gone away. Maybe it was as well that it hadn’t- for all they knew it was pivotal to their success as a band. Whatever the case, Joe wasn’t complaining.

Joe also knew, however, that he had a deeper insight into Pete Wentz than most of the fans could ever imagine.  

Joe remembered being fifteen and star struck the first time he saw _local celebrity Pete Wentz_ performing. Pete’s stage presence had been electrifying and powerful and Joe had been ready to follow him anywhere and to believe everything he said.

By some stroke of cosmic insanity, they’d ended up in a band together. A band that was achieving more than they could ever have dreamed.

The first time he’d felt that something was off was _way back_ in the early days. He remembered vividly being in Pete’s bedroom, before they’d even met Patrick, and seeing loose razor blades in the corner of a small box filled, with guitar picks, earrings, bracelets and assorted accessories. He remembered the way his chest felt inexplicably tight- he wasn’t even sure what he thought this meant, before the door opened and he jumped out of his skin. Pete, full of smiles and laughter, and, more importantly, apparently oblivious to his discovery, talked easily to him, collecting bits and pieces from around his room. At some stage he closed the box, so subtly that Joe didn’t even see it happen. He just recalled glancing over his shoulder, as he exited the room, and noticing that the box was closed.

The problem _was_ that Pete was so very good at hiding. He hid in plain sight, behind incomprehensible lyrics that could reveal his deepest secrets if only one had the key to unlock them.

After that, Joe had something to look for. As long as he’d known him, Pete had had tattoos but in the early years they hadn’t covered all the scars. The first time he noticed, shortly after the incident in his room, he’d asked Pete about them.

“Cuts and bruises man” Pete had replied “It isn’t a good show if you don’t emerge with a few battle scars”.

Joe hadn’t pushed it, how could he? But he had a feeling that battle scars should never be so regular.

The band grew. They met Patrick and Pete was a changed man. He’d proclaim, to anyone who’d listen, that he’d met a boy who was golden and was going to make him a rock-star. As more time passed, Joe stopped feeling like the lucky kid who happened to befriend Pete Wentz, and more like he belonged. They were all equals in the band and when Andy joined, they knew that they had a winning formula.

The first time he caught Pete at it took them both by surprise. Back in the van days privacy was minimal. But it was definitely by accident that he walked in on Pete in a gas-station restroom. It was single occupancy, so clearly Pete hadn’t thought he’d be disturbed. Either the late hour (it was the middle of the night) or general exhaustion, had led him to forget to lock the door.

Initially, Joe didn’t even realise that it was Pete. He’d walked in, eyes on the floor in front of him, and been greeted by a pile of tissue, sodden red. Eyes snapping up, he’d met the gaze of a shocked Pete, who was hastily shoving the sleeves of his hoodie down his arms.

_“What the fuck!?”_

_“Dude, learn to fucking knock!”_  Pete sounded stunned.

_“What are you doing?”_

_“Nothing, get out”_

_“You’re bleeding through your shirt!”_

Pete had sworn and closed his eyes, seemingly at a loss as to what to do. It was in that moment that the world sank into place for Joe Trohman and he realised just how vulnerable the seemingly invincible Pete Wentz was.

 _“God…”_ he’d trailed off, unsure of what to say _“Dude should you go to a hospital or…”_

 _“What?”_ Pete had sounded incredulous _“It’s not even bad”_

_“Dude you’re still bleeding! Not to mention that you shouldn’t be doing this, oh my god!”_

_“It’s fine, I can patch it up”_ Pete's tone was close to exasperation, as he indicated the sink, in which a toiletries bag was visible.

_“Please just leave and let me get fixed up”_

Joe had never been in a situation like this before, but he knew that it didn’t feel right to just walk out and leave Pete to “fix” himself. Shutting the door behind him and locking it, he stepped towards the sink and reached for the bag.

 _“Let me help, please?”_ he’d asked warily, all too conscious of the fact that the situation could turn volatile. Dropping to his haunches, he placed a tentative hand on Pete’s knee.

 _“You’re acting like you’re my mom or something”_ Pete had managed, not quite capable of meeting Joe’s gaze. _“It’s not like I’m dying man, come on, do I look like I need help?”_

 _“No, you look like you know exactly what you’re doing…”_ even in the poor light, Joe could see old scars scattered across Pete’s arms. He supposed they were elsewhere also. The fresh cuts, however, were still bleeding, though not very hard, he noticed with relief. Unzipping the bag, he began to rifle through it and quickly realised he didn’t know what he was doing. Pulling out a roll of bandages, he looked up, a question on his lips but Pete beat him to it.

_“No, look I have to clean it first, and then there’s ointment and then I bandage it up.”_

Never before had Joe felt as helpless as he did in the five minutes or so that followed, as he watched rather than assisted Pete tend to his injuries. It was clearly methodical to Pete- he worked calmly and efficiently, Joe felt close to tears. He held it together until Pete put his hoodie back on and he realised how normal he looked, as if nothing was wrong.

_There’s probably been dozens of nights like this one._

It was that thought that caused his eyes to water, and it was to his horror that he saw concern in Pete’s eyes,

_“Dude look it’s okay, don’t be upset I’m fine.”_

_“How can you say that!?”_ Joe felt short of breath _“How can you be fine when you’re hurting yourself like this?”_

 _“Sometimes things just get to be too much”_ Pete had said slowly, hands tersely gripping his make-shift first-aid kit _“Sometimes I do this”._

He’d smiled ruefully at that and Joe felt his chest constrict- Pete could hide anything behind a smile and measured words.

 _“We’re going to talk about this tomorrow”_ he’d stated, but even to his own ears it sounded unsure.

 _“It’ll be okay”_ Pete had merely said in reply.

It was in a daze that Joe left the bathroom, Pete in-tow. In the van, Joe saw Pete stow the kit in his duffel bag, shoving it right to the bottom. Pete seemed to fall asleep minutes after lying down, but knowing Pete, Joe doubted that he had.

 _Tomorrow,_ he thought. _We’ll talk about it tomorrow…_

But of course, they didn’t.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are running high towards the end of tour.

Joe took one look at Pete’s sleeping face the next morning and decided he couldn’t bring it up-not while they were all still cooped up in the van together anyway. Pete, for his part, made no mention of it either-he spent the majority of the day’s drive cuddled against an unusually patient Patrick. His beaming smile indicated that he was well-aware of his luck- it wasn’t often Patrick was _so_ accommodating.

_You could tell Patrick._

The thought circulated in his mind all day. For all he knew, Patrick could already know- maybe Andy too? The memory of Pete’s shocked expression, however, made him think that this was not the case and it felt like a huge invasion of Pete’s trust, if not his privacy, to go to Patrick, before even talking to Pete himself.

So he said nothing to Patrick or Andy. And as much as he hated himself for it, days passed and he said nothing about it to Pete. He kept an eye on him- Pete seemed perfectly happy- or as happy as one could be given the circumstances. The thrill of their biggest tour to date was wearing off the longer they spent in the van. The break from touring was eagerly anticipated by all of them.

They knew they were going to make another album. Pete was always writing- he probably would have been even if there wasn’t an album to write for, but it was nonetheless comforting to feel that solid progress was being made towards the next project.

_Knowing Pete, it’ll be one hell of an album._

For Joe had come to realise that all the words that Patrick had been singing for the past year, really were _all Pete._

 _“I want to hate you half as much, as I hate myself”  
_ The break would do them all good, it would give them the chance to clear their heads.

It couldn’t come soon enough.

 

* * *

 

When the call came in on his cell phone, Joe seriously considered rejecting it. _Patrick_ of all people, should realise that it was only _fair_ to wait at least two weeks, or _at the very least_ one week, after the end of a tour, before contacting the other band members again. He wondered vaguely if he had mistakenly taken home something of Patrick’s, in which case, _he supposed,_ Patrick had _some_ justification for calling him.

_“What’s up Patrick?”_

_“Joe, I need you to get over to Pete’s place.”_

_“Why the fuck are you at Pete’s place, the tour only ended 2 days ago.”_

_“It doesn’t matter, just please I need some help over here. I’ll call Andy if you can’t, it’s just-“  
“No it’s okay” _ Joe groaned, as he found himself reaching for his keys _“I’ll be over in a few”._

 

* * *

As soon as he entered Pete’s building, Joe could tell why Patrick had called him. It could only be due to the fact that it was four in the afternoon, and not morning, that none of the neighbours were in the corridor protesting the shouts that were becoming louder and louder the closer he came to Pete’s apartment. As he raised his fist to pound on the door, he realised that it seemed to be only Pete who was shouting.

Patrick opened the door almost before Joe had finished knocking _“Oh thank God you’re here”_

Not wasting times with formalities, Patrick was already away from the door, leaving Joe to follow him into the small apartment.

_“He started ripping up all the lyrics he’d written. I barely got his laptop away from him in time-“_

_“They’re all worthless!”_

Patrick was cut off by an exclamation from Pete, who was visible now that Joe had entered the living area. Pete was sitting on the floor, surrounded by torn pieces of paper. Pete was ripping pieces from a larger scrap of paper- the tiny pieces decorated much of Pete, and Patrick’s clothing.

_“Just let me get rid of them!”_

It was a shout this time, one directed at Patrick. Pete was looking at them now- his face was contorted with rage- Joe didn’t think he’d ever seen Pete look so furious, let alone direct such a glare at _Patrick._

 _“I locked the laptop, and the pages that I could in the bathroom”_ Patrick sounded weary- Joe wondered how long he’d been here- or rather how long he’d been dealing with this situation for.

  _“I don’t know what started this, he won’t tell me. He just kept saying that he had to get rid of them, that he wanted to destroy them.”_

 _“They are_ my _lyrics after all”_ Pete was speaking now, but his tone was all wrong- pronounced and mean. _“I’m allowed to do whatever I want with_ my _lyrics. If you want to control the lyrics Patrick you’d have to write the lyrics, but you can’t write the lyrics can you?”_

At another time, this would have been a joke, made over drinks, and they’d all laugh and remember the disastrous early songs they’d written. As it was, Pete wasn’t joking and neither, it seemed, was Patrick, who took a step towards Pete _“look fucker-”_

 _“OKAY”_ Joe clapped a hand on Patrick’s shoulder to prevent him from walking any closer _“Obviously this is not a good situation, I think everyone is still stressed from the tour, probably in need of a BREAK from each other? Why don’t we all just chill out for a bit?”_

 _“That’s what I. Kept. Saying!”_ Pete punctuated the words with his hands _“I keep telling Patrick to leave and he won’t get the fuck out!”_

 _“I could hardly fucking leave when you were trying to destroy your whole apartment. If I hadn’t stayed you wouldn’t have had a place to live anymore, and if you think you could live with me you are_ hugely _mistaken my friend”._

Joe could literally hear Patrick’s headache.

 _“Patrick”_ he began _“You did really well, well done. I can definitely stay now and you can leave. Maybe take the laptop and stuff with you when you do? Go home and get some rest?”_

 _“Okay, great”_ Patrick was already striding towards the bathroom. He slipped inside and Joe turned his attention to Pete who had quietened down and seemed to be sulking on the floor.

 _“I just can’t wait to get out of here”_ Patrick said, half-under his breath, as he made his way from the bathroom and towards the door. Joe knew he’d regret the pettiness, but didn’t suppose Patrick could be blamed given the circumstances.

 _“Don’t forget your bag”_ Pete sneered and Patrick swore _“Though I suppose you’d manage without it, it’s not like you brought much in it”_

 _“I’ll get it thanks”_ Patrick snarled. Pushing past Joe, he slammed open Pete’s bedroom door. He emerged quickly, the bag in hand. Pete laughed raucously.

 _“Good luck”._ With that Patrick was gone.

Joe looked at Pete. Pete was staring past him, back towards the front door. Already, he seemed significantly more subdued- Joe wasn’t surprised that tensions had flared so high- Pete and Patrick bickered at the best of times, and two days after an extended tour wasn’t the best of times. With a groan, Joe lowered himself to the floor, to sit across from Pete.

 _“What’s up buddy?”_ he said cautiously.

Pete sighed, eyes downcast, fingers rifling through the papers that littered the floor _“All my lyrics are shit. Everything I’m thinking is shit. I can’t write, I just wanted to wreck something, anything, to clear my head but Patrick wouldn’t let me, said that I shouldn’t destroy all the work, and it got out of hand”._

 _“Yeah?”_ Joe smiled. _That_ was certainly an understatement. _“Are they_ really _shit?”_

Pete looked up and met Joe’s grin with one of his own _“Dude literally_ so _shit”_

 _“Okay then”_ Joe picked up a random scrap of paper and tore a piece off it _“Let’s finish what you started then”_

Pete laughed and the sound was so bright, one would hardly believe it came from the man who had jeered Patrick out of the room minutes before _“Hell yeah dude!”_

As they worked, Joe couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Pete had been trying to avoid doing, all those weeks ago, in the service-station bathroom. Or, if maybe, _that_ was what Pete would have done, if Patrick’s presence in the apartment hadn’t made it possible.  While both were destructive, Joe couldn’t help thinking, as he watched Pete happily shred the paper, that this was definitely the outcome that he preferred.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Practice sessions go from bad to worse.

Things quietened down pretty quick after the initial trouble. Joe caught up with his family and other friends and took time to just relax- it had been months and months since their last break. He didn’t see any of the other guys for a few weeks, though they kept in touch over the phone. Part of him missed the exhilaration of touring, but he knew it was important to take the time to rest-it wouldn’t do any of them any good to burn out.

By the end of the third week, however, he was itching to share some of his ideas with the guys. He met up for lunch with Andy, and coffee with Patrick, and they exchanged ideas. It was only early days, but he could tell that they were both as excited about the new album as he was.

They had surpassed expectations with _Take This to Your Grave,_ the result being that now there actually _were_ expectations for their next record.

 _“Just think if we manage to pull off something huge”_ Patrick’s eyes gleamed under the bright lights of the café they were in _“Everybody wants it, but nobody thinks we actually can do it. Let’s prove them all wrong”._

His confidence was reflected in his singing. Joe remembered how shy Patrick had been before he had become their singer-how he’d just wanted to hide behind a drum-kit. In some ways he’d still been hiding on Take This To Your Grave-masking his voice behind imitations of other singers. His singing was better now than it had ever been-and improving _every_ day.

They went to L.A in December-the general consensus being that it would do them good to get out of their comfort zone and try write something totally new.

Pete didn’t turn up for the first practice session. Joe hadn’t met Pete since the incident at his apartment but he’d texted him on and off since then. Pete had seemed excited at the prospect of spending time in L.A-or, more accurately, of getting out of Chicago.

 _“Is Pete not coming or something?”_ he eventually asked when 45 minutes into their first hour no-one had made any mention of his absence.

 _“I wasn’t talking to him, I don’t know”_ Patrick said absently, not looking up from the guitar he was tuning.

 _“You haven’t_ talked to him- _okay Andy, does Pete know that we were meant to be meeting up today?”  
“Yeah, I think so” _ Andy mused _“He definitely knew we were meeting up, though he mightn’t have realised it was to practice”_

 _“Okay”_ Joe pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger _“Should we call him or something? Maybe he didn’t realise we booked an actual practice space or something.”_

Patrick shrugged disinterestedly and Joe felt his eyebrows reaching up towards his hairline.  He didn’t think he’d ever understand the dynamics of Pete and Patrick’s relationship, and this certainly wasn’t the time to try figure it out.

_“Okay, I think I’ll give him a call, just to see what’s up”_

 

* * *

 

Pete answered on the second round of ringing.

_“JOE, speak of the devil, how goes it?”_

_  
“Pete?”_ Joe struggled to hear over the thrum of music in the background of Pete’s line _“Hey man, I’m fine. I’m here with Andy and Patrick at the practice space in L.A, did you forget we were meeting today?”_

 _  
“Holy Shit!”_ Pete exclaimed, _“Was that today? Shit man, I was so ready for it too, I’ve been working really hard to get better at bass, I’m not half-bad now. I really really wanted to show you guys this line I was working on, I know Patrick usually writes most of the music, but I thought this was really good, I can’t believe-”_

 _“Whoa dude, slow down, it’s okay”_ Joe took his chance to interject, as Pete, noticeably took a breath _“It’s only the first session, you didn’t miss anything, we’re not even really doing anything. You could probably still come on down, where abouts are you?”_

_“Vegas Baby!”_

_“What?!”_

_“Vegas Baby!”_

_  
“No”_ Joe groaned in disbelief _“I heard you, but why the fuck are you in Vegas, didn’t you literally just fly out to L.A?”_

 _“Yeah, but there was this thing I_ had _to do. There’s this band man, I found them online. They’re gonna be huge, I can just feel it. I’m gonna sign them.”  
_ There was a sudden burst of noise on Pete’s end of the line and Joe jerked his ear away from his phone. Pete’s voice could still be heard, ringing out shrilly.

_“That’s right fellas, I’m signing you! Welcome to the family!”_

A series of muffled thumps suggested that whoever was with Pete had just thrown themselves at him. He could hear high-pitched laughter and cries of delight. It was a while before Pete returned to the line.

 _“I’m telling you man, there's gonna be a big_ Panic _about these guys, am I right?”_

Laughter burst out on Pete’s end of the line, and Joe groaned. These poor kids would probably have laughed at anything Pete told them to.

_“Okay, Pete, Pete are you listening? Okay, call me when you get back to L.A. I hope that’s sooner rather than later.”_

_“Sure thing Joe”_ Joe could literally hear that Pete was beaming.

The line went dead.

 

* * *

 

 

 _“Pete’s not going to make it today”_ Joe announced on his return to the main room.

 _“He out partying or something?”_ Patrick asked, and Joe saw that even Andy was raising an eyebrow at his tone now.

_“Well, technically he’s working. He seems to be about to sign some new band. In Vegas.”_

_“He’s in-”_ Patrick was shaking his head incredulously _“That’s Pete for you, predictably unpredictable.”_

 _“Well, at least that’s settled so”_ Andy interjected before Patrick could continue _“I suppose we could try to do something tonight, maybe just work on drums or something, that Pete wouldn’t be too bothered about anyway”  
_ Joe hummed in assent. Patrick seemed annoyed, but agreed. By the end of the night, they hadn’t made much progress but, they reasoned, it was only the first of what would surely be many practice sessions.

 

* * *

 

 

Joe hadn’t even gotten out of bed the next morning when Pete turned up on his doorstep-a small duffel bag in tow. He turned down Joe’s offer of breakfast but chattered excitedly while Joe ate.

 _“I have all their stuff on my computer man, wait till you hear it. They were absolutely shit, there was only two of them and they didn’t even have proper equipment, but I just know they’re going to be great. The chemistry was just there, you know? They’re gonna blow up.”  
“Did you even go to sleep last night man?” _ Joe was tired himself, despite his full night’s sleep and he hadn’t made three flights in the space of a couple of hours _“When was the last time you ate? You sure you don’t want breakfast.”_

 _“No, I’m good. I took the guys out to dinner last night. I had to seem professional and all”._ Pete grinned sheepishly and Joe was struck by how often Pete downplayed the amount of time and effort he put into things.

_“Okay, if you say so. Well, I’m sure the guys will be delighted to have you back in L.A, did you text or call either of them before coming here?”_

_“No”_ Pete frowned _“No, I figured they might be pissed off after I missed the practice last night. I really did not mean to, I just completely forgot about it cause I was so excited about going to Vegas to see those guys. Were they mad last night? Were you? I bet Patrick was anyway, oh my god-”_

 _“No, it’s fine man”_ it was only half a lie _“I think we were all just a bit confused cause it came out of nowhere, but it’s all good now that you’re back.”_

 _“Yes I am!”_ Joe blinked- it was too early for such an excited tone _“I am back and ready to go, man you have to listen to the thing I was talking about. I’m way better than I was, you won’t even believe”_

 _“I can’t wait”_ Joe smiled despite himself. It was great to see Pete excited about playing again.

 

* * *

 

  _“This is all you have?”_

If Joe felt like crying, he couldn’t imagine how Pete was feeling. Gone was Pete’s ecstatic grin-it had evaporated quickly under Patrick’s incredulous stare.

At the start it had seemed so hopeful, Pete had greeted everyone with hugs, even Joe, whom he’d driven to the session with. Pete had talked excitedly about all the work he’d been doing, as he set up his bass. But then Patrick had asked about lyrics.

_“Are you honestly telling me this is all you’ve written in all the time we’ve been off?”_

_“No”_ Pete’s tone suggested that he was closer to storming out than he was to tears _“These are the only lyrics I brought with me. They’re the only ones I wanted to share with you”_

 _“Since when have you censored what you write?”_ Patrick hissed venomously.

 _“Since I decided that I wanted this album to be as good as possible maybe?”_ Pete said loudly, addressing the room at large, rather than Patrick specifically _“Or since I realised that not everything I think or feel_ needs _to be written down”_

_  
“Oh please, you’re definitely writing it down, you’re just choosing not to share it”_

_“OR MAYBE”_ Pete continued, louder still _“I decided after that little incident a few months ago that I was entitled to a bit more privacy and autonomy”_

_“That wasn’t even one month ago!”_

_“Does it matter?”_ Pete’s tone was incredulous-Joe couldn’t really blame him _“Time all just blurs together these days, it doesn’t fucking matter, all that matters is you’re not getting anything except what I decide to give you”._

Joe didn’t think he’d ever experienced more tension that he did in that moment. Patrick was breathing hard. Pete didn’t seem to be breathing at all.Patrick’s tone was surprisingly gentle when next he spoke:

 _“Was this too soon? Did we-did_ you _need a longer break before trying to start up again?”_

 _“No”_ Pete’s tone was petulant _“_ I’m _fine, I’m totally ready to get working on music. What’s the problem Patrick, are the lyrics I gave you not any good? I really thought they were good, I worked for ages to make sure that anything I actually gave you was pretty good?”_

 _  
“They seem pretty good to me”_ Andy said unexpectedly-attempting, no doubt, to relieve the tension, _“And I don’t even give a shit about lyrics so I think that’s saying something”._

 _“It’s not that they’re not good”_ Patrick said wearily, rubbing a hand over his forehead _“It’s just that I thought there’d be a lot more”_

 _“I did forget something”_ Pete said suddenly, searching the pocket of his hoodie fervently. With a flourish, he pulled out his hand; he was flipping Patrick off. _“To you, unfinished, off the top of my head: Fuck You.”_

Pete bowed mockingly, before storming out of the room. Patrick was scoffing, seemingly lost for words. Joe realised he was gritting his teeth.

 _“That actually could have gone worse”_ Andy said quietly.

Joe hated the fact that he agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete calls Joe in the middle of the night.

Joe knew there would be repercussions to the night’s events. He didn’t realise just how soon they’d come.

 _“Joe”_ Pete’s voice sounded as wrecked as Joe felt.

_It’s 3am-this is usually Patrick’s job._

_“Yeah”_ Joe grunted in response. Clearly, Pete wasn’t going to call Patrick (or Patrick wouldn’t pick up, though then again he probably _would_ even in the midst of their argument-you never could tell with those two) so Joe supposed Pete needed someone to talk to. _“Can you not sleep, Pete?”_

Joe could hear Pete clear his throat. There was a pause and then he cleared it again.

_“Joe could you come over?”_

_“It’s the middle of the night, can’t we just do this over the phone?”_

_“No, not really. I kind of messed up and I need some help”_

_“What?”_ Joe hadn’t expected this _“What’s wrong?”_

 _“I’m okay”_ Pete’s tone was definitive, reassuring even _“I just kind of messed up, believe me man, I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t need to and it’s just I didn’t know who else to call, you’re the only one-”_

Pete trailed off, then cleared his throat again and suddenly Joe felt sick.

_“I’m the only one who..?”_

_“Who knows.”  
“Okay, I’ll be over as quick as I can”._

* * *

 

While they would all eventually find a place and rent it out, for the moment they were all staying in separate hotels. Pete had given Joe the spare key to his hotel that morning, thankfully, so Joe had no problem getting into Pete’s room.

Pushing open the door, Joe found the room to be in total darkness except for a strip of light underneath what he assumed to be the bathroom door. He crossed the room quickly and then slowly pulled open the door.

_Oh my god._

_“It’s not as bad as it looks”_ The only thing reassuring about Pete’s statement was the fact that it was made emphatically enough for Joe to realise Pete wasn’t going to pass out.

 _“Jesus Pete”_ Joe gasped, he couldn’t help it.

 _“Yeah, I know okay. I went a bit overboard, that’s why I called”_ Pete was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, looking as small as Joe had ever seen him.

 _“A bit overboard, have you seen yourself”  
“No actually” _ Pete smiled ruefully _“I didn’t really have the energy to stand up, so I haven’t looked in the mirror”._

 _That’s probably as well,_ Joe thought, swallowing hard.

Pete was sitting on the floor, legs lying straight out in front of him, wearing only his boxers. It was this combination of factors that allowed Joe to see the full extent of the damage that Pete had inflicted.

Pete’s thighs were red with cuts and blood. Joe couldn’t even see if old scars were present on Pete’s thighs. If there were, he had covered them with new ones. What Joe had seen, back in the gas-station bathroom, was child’s-play compared to this.

 _“What do we do, oh my god”_ he knew panicking wouldn’t help Pete, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t been prepared for _this._

 _“It’s okay”_ for once Pete looked like he didn’t believe what he was saying.

 _“I-“_ Joe faltered. What the hell did people do in situations like this?  
_“I’m sorry for calling”_ Pete’s voice sounded cut-up and while it was finally the reaction Joe expected, it didn’t make the situation any better _“I just honestly couldn’t even find the motivation to stand up and help myself, I just wanted to sit here forever and let the world go on”._

Joe had never had a bad breakup but he was pretty sure his heart was breaking.

 _“And they need to be bandaged up”_ Pete continued, his voice slightly steadier _“and I didn’t feel I could do it. I knew I wasn’t going to do it. So that’s why I called you”_

Joe was taking deep breaths but he felt about as unsteady as Pete looked. As much as he hated himself for it, he could barely even _look_ at Pete.

_“So I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you could…my bag’s in my suitcase, I didn’t stop to think before I started, I suppose I wasn’t really thinking at all…could you…?”_

His voice hitched on the last word and Joe shut his eyes.

_You have to get a grip. How can he be expected to get it together if you can’t?_

_“Okay”_ Joe said, turning towards the main room _“Of course, just let me know if I’m doing it wrong or if anything hurts”._

Joe could hear Pete huff, almost like a laugh but not, as he exited the bathroom and began to rifle through his case.

 _“Everything already hurts”_ he said tonelessly _“that’s the problem”._

* * *

 

 

Pete insisted that Joe should stay. If Joe was being honest, he probably would have asked to stay regardless-the events of the night had left him exhausted.

He’d shared many a bed with Pete before-it came with the lifestyle. It was a stark reminder of the reality of the situation, however, when Pete made no attempt to cuddle up to him, choosing instead to lie flat on his back, on his own side of the bed.

_“Do they hurt still?”_

_  
“Not much more than usual”_ Pete replied.

_How usual is usual?_

_  
“Um Joe, thank you. For this. I’m sorry, I know it was a horrible thing to ask”._

_“No, I’m glad you called”_ Joe stretched out an arm to find Pete’s hand. He squeezed it for a second before letting go.

“ _Never_ don’t _call man, I just wish you weren’t doing this to yourself, that you wouldn’t have to call.”_

 _“Maybe one day I’ll be okay”_ Pete said slowly. Joe was pretty sure his eyes were closed, _“Or maybe one day I’ll stop”._

_“You know this doesn’t actually help”_

_“I’m glad you think so”_ Pete was smiling now, _“I’d hate for you to understand this.”_

 _“Can we keep this between us, please?”_ Pete’s plea was hesitant.

_“What if I’m not around to help and the other guys don’t know to?”_

_“If it came to that, I’m sure one of us would tell them”_ Pete was definitely smiling now.

Pete barely shifted in his sleep, some subconscious part of his brain knowing not to make the damage worse.

Joe only knew because he didn’t sleep at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe finally does what he should have done months ago, and gets Pete to open up.

_“When did you start doing this?”_

It was the first thing he said to Pete in the morning, before either of them had gotten out of bed. Before Pete even had a chance to wake up.

Joe had missed his chance before, he wasn’t going to be reckless enough not to take it now.

 _“Do you really want to ask that question?”_ Pete reasoned.

 _“I need to ask that question”_ Joe was going to be firm in hopes of producing the answers he needed.

 _“Well then I guess I’d say I’d don’t really know”_ Pete’s hands were clasped behind his head as he stared directly ahead of him, at the ceiling. _“Like that depends, do you mean the first time ever, or the first time it actually really hurt, or the first time I realised this was a problem”._

_Trust Pete to answer a question with three of his own._

_“All of the above”._

_“For fucks sake”_ Pete muttered before sighing heavily.

 _“The first time, God, I was probably like fifteen or so”_.

Pete was looking at him now, an inquisitive look on his face. Joe raised in eyebrow in question and Pete laughed.

 _“What?”_ said Joe.

 _“I’m just surprised that you didn’t make some comment, like, ‘late bloomer I see’”_ Pete made the quotes with his fingers in the air.

 _“I don’t think with something like this there should be a set ‘blooming’ age”_ Joe returned and Pete huffed.

_“C'mon man_ _, we might as well laugh about it if you’re going to actually make me say these things aloud”_

_“Trust me, I’m not going to laugh”_

Pete shook his head and returned to his original position, facing the ceiling.

_“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to do enough laughing for the both of us”._

_“Okay so you started when you were fifteen, can I ask why?”_

_“Oh my god”_ Pete balked _“Can you ask me why I decided to start fucking doing this? Are you serious?”_

 _  
“Yes”_ Joe returned, determined to give as good as he was getting _“Man, I have to ask, because you can’t even say it out loud, can you? What you’re doing.”_

 _“I’m not good with words”_ Pete began before he was cut off by Joe’s scoff _“I’m not good with saying things off the cusp, asshole. I know I can fucking write sometimes”._

 _“Okay anyway”_ Joe urged _“Please can you try to tell me why you started, or why you do this?”_

 _“Ah”_ Joe could imagine all too well the expression on Pete’s face, he could read it in the fluctuation of his voice.

_“Fine, I guess it was probably just usual teen angst stuff. If I remember correctly you were pretty angsty when we first met, when you were 15”_

_“I never did this though”_ Joe muttered.

_“Yeah well whatever, teen angst: body image issues, ‘I don’t belong issues’, the usual. Then they diagnosed me with depression and I realised that…self-harming was actually one of my symptoms”._

_“Wait when they what?”_ Joe faltered _“When they diagnosed you, I didn’t even know you were diagnosed with depression”_

 _“Oh”_ Pete’s tone was regretful _“Right. I didn’t tell you guys, just cause I mean I don’t tell anyone. It’s not exactly what you want people to automatically think when they see you: ‘oh there’s that guy. He’s depressed and bipolar and has anxiety to top it all off”._

Joe felt like he’d been hit with a ton of bricks.

A silence developed between them, as Joe struggled desperately to from a coherent sentence and Pete basked in the aftermath of his bombshell.

_“See, even you don’t know what to say to me now, and we’ve been friends for years. Can’t imagine why I wouldn’t want to tell people”._

_“I was just going to say that that’s nothing-they diagnosed Patrick with high-blood pressure last week”._

Pete took one incredulous look at Joe’s face and burst out laughing. Joe, in spite of his earlier promise, found himself joining in.

 _“Oh my god”_ Pete was grinning from ear to ear _“It’s not even funny. Poor Patrick.”_

Joe raised an eyebrow and Pete guffawed.

 _“Okay”_ Pete said breathlessly, when his laughter finally subsided _“Okay, so while it might not be the dreaded High Blood Pressure, it’s still not something I’m really comfortable sharing with just anybody”._

 _“I get that”_ Joe conceded. He was still reeling from the revelation that Pete was dealing with a slew of mental health issues. And that he had been for years, evidently.”

_“Okay, so anyway, to skip on. I started when I was 15. The first time it really hurt, I was 18 and they hospitalised me because I fainted after. I cut too much. Too deep. It was stupid. Thankfully, it was on campus and I wasn’t a minor so they didn’t actually contact my parents.”_

_“Do they know about this?”  
“I don’t think so” _ Pete sounded pensive _“No, I think I did a good enough job of hiding it. They’ve never said anything about it to me anyway”._

Pete sighed. Joe released a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding.

_“And then the first time I realised this was a problem was probably the time I was 25 years old, still cutting, and I got caught literally red-handed by one of my best friends”._

Joe’s stomach lurched. He turned to look at Pete and saw that Pete had done the same, and was watching Joe carefully.

_“Not just one of my best-friends, but one of the kids I fucking promised myself I’d protect”_

_“Pete”_ Joe felt his voice catch

 _“No let me finish”_ Pete held up one of his hands, _“It’s true man, I always told myself I had to look out for you, back in the hard-core scene you know? I’m pretty sure Andy feels the same…and Patrick”_

Pete trailed off, seemingly lost in thought.

_“Well Patrick’s a little different. For me anyway, probably not for Andy. But I still looked out for him in the beginning. He was so fucking weird when we first met him do you remember? At his house, with the black socks, and the shorts and the argyle sweater?”_

Pete chuckled. Joe had to admit that he hadn’t even remembered that first meeting, let alone what Patrick was wearing at the time. He wasn’t going to tell Pete that though. At least not yet.

 _“Anyway”_ Pete cleared his throat _“The reason I’m saying this is cause I don’t want you to think that this somehow makes me less able to watch out for you. I can look after myself, I always have, and you don’t have to worry about me. It’s my job to worry about you.”_

 _“Is this what you’d call looking after yourself though?”_ Joe couldn’t help but pose the question _“Look down at your fucking legs man, they’re torn to bits…”_

 _“Yeah…”_ Pete exhaled heavily _“Well I can look out for myself well enough, if not look after. I called you because I wasn’t able to take care of myself last night. And while I know it’s not fair to put that on you, it just shows that I’m not a total fuck up”._

_What do you say to that?_

_“Thank you”_ Joe said at last. Pete’s eyes snapped up and Joe nodded _“Thank you for looking out for me. I always wondered how I managed to get by back in the day without getting in more trouble”._

Pete laughed a bone-rattling laugh that made Joe feel a little less terrible.

 _“Yeah you’re welcome man”_ Pete grinned _“I saved your ass from getting beat more times than I could count!”_

 _“Yeah, I’m sure”_ Joe countered. Pete laughed again, throwing his head back, before fixing Joe with a levelled look.

_“How mad was Patrick with me last night?”_

_“I wouldn’t say mad so much as annoyed. I mean you literally produced lyrics, on the spot, just to cuss him out”._

It took about three seconds before they burst into laughter again.

_“But you didn’t even get to see his face after man, and that was the best part. You left him totally speechless. He literally didn’t say anything for like five minutes after you left.”_

_“I managed to leave Patrick Stump speechless and I didn’t even get to experience it for myself”_ Pete let out a low whistle _“Guess I’ll just have to leave him speechless again”._

He winked at Joe, who let out a snort in response.

_“You two are so fucking weird, I swear to God”._

_“Hmm”_ Pete hummed in agreement before wringing his hands over his chest. He was actually worried about what Patrick was feeling, Joe realised.

_“Don’t worry about it man, Patrick will get over it real quick. If we all go out to dinner or something today, I guarantee you that he won’t even be all that pissed off”._

_“I don’t know”_ Pete said, half-singing the words, _“He can be a right_ Trick-y _lil bastard”._

 _“Please never make such a pun in my presence ever again”_ Joe’s monotone contrasted with Pete’s peals of laughter.

 _“Okay man”_ Joe said, sitting up in bed _“I think that’s enough for now”_ he rubbed a hand through his hair, as Pete drummed his hands on his stomach. _“Promise me you won’t do this again for a while. Certainly, please never do anything this extreme again”._

 _“I think I can manage that”_ Pete smiled a smile that lit up his whole face. Joe knew that that smile would probably get them on their first magazine cover if nothing else would. Pete tapped the inside of his wrist and Joe blinked, wondering if Pete was asking the time.

_“The ribbon on my wrist says do not open before Christmas”._

_“You motherfucking”_ Joe shook his head _“How do you even go through life when you’re speaking a whole other language to us regular folk?”_

Pete laughed again and Joe wanted to bottle up the happiness that was present in Pete’s eyes.

_“Your use of the word ‘folk’ in that sentence really demonstrates just how difficult it is for me, to be honest”._

_“Oh fuck you”_ Joe laughed and Pete buried his face in his hands, in laughter.

It was moments like this that gave both of them hope.

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick finds out and everything goes to hell

Pete needn’t have been so worried about Patrick being mad at him. The four of them met up at an apartment Andy had found for them to rent and Joe watched as Pete entered the living room, eyes downcast-looking, for all the world, like a puppy that had been left out in the rain. It took about five seconds before Patrick said _“Oh for fucks sake”_ and extended his arms and approximately 0.5 seconds for Pete to throw himself at Patrick, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in Patrick’s neck.

They may have fought like a married couple, but they could make up like one too.

When they wanted to.

 _“Okay buddy”_ Patrick was patting the back of Pete’s head, which was still nestled under his chin.

_“I didn’t mean to make you so mad, or well I guess I did, but then I regretted it so much”._

Joe was pretty sure Pete was kissing Patrick’s neck now, though licking would have been a more accurate description.

 _“Okay”_ Patrick was extricating himself from Pete’s embrace, trying to hold him at arm’s length _“I was being a dick, I deserved that eloquent send-off you gave me”._

Pete laughed thickly, which made Joe think that maybe his display of remorse, on entering the room, hadn’t just been for show.

Patrick suddenly became aware of the fact that Joe and Andy were watching them and stepped back self-consciously.

_“So, Lunch?”_

 

* * *

 

 

Gone were the days where they’d all crashed in one studio apartment, sharing pillow space and even for a time (Joe feared) a toothbrush.

This apartment was modest but spacious enough for everyone to have a separate room (be it a bedroom or living room) to crash in. Patrick had gotten one bedroom, Andy the other, Joe was in the main room, that they’d used for practice earlier that evening, while Pete had _volunteered_ to take the smallest room, that no-one had wanted.

 _“I don’t need much room”_ Pete had beamed _“Besides, I’ll take it to make up for yesterday!”._

As it was, Joe thought he’d gotten the worst deal. Andy’s drum kit was uncomfortably close to his head. Worse still was the fact that he would probably wake up every time someone banged the bathroom door. But it was still the best set-up they’d ever had-it was luxury compared to the months they’d spent in the van.

Joe woke up the first time Andy banged the bathroom door. The second time, having realised his mistake, Andy closed it softly but Joe was still awake, and ready to curse Andy, and his healthy, _three litres of water a day,_ lifestyle. The third time, Joe was on the point of drifting to sleep when from his position on the couch he watched Pete slip into Patrick’s room.

And suddenly he was wide awake again.

He briefly considered that Pete had somehow gotten the door wrong. The fact that Pete didn’t immediately come back out, however, negated this.

 _Did he even try to go to sleep on his own?_ Joe had to work to contain a laugh. Pete’s insomnia was known to all of them, but it seemed a bit extreme that he should have given up trying _so_ quickly. Joe wasn’t even asleep yet and Andy would probably be out to the bathroom again before he finally passed out.

He had no idea when Pete had started the practice of going to Patrick when he couldn’t sleep. It seemed to be something that had developed immediately between them. Joe wondered if that was what Pete had meant when he said Patrick was different for him-in many ways it was Patrick who protected Pete, rather than the other way around.

Patrick, Joe knew, had the patience of a saint. He wondered what Patrick would say if _he_ ever tried to climb into his bed, uninvited, in the middle of the night.

He didn’t think he’d ever risk it.

 

* * *

 

 

He could hear murmurs coming through Patrick’s door. They quickly became quieter and less frequent, and Joe was just beginning to feel that he was finally going to get to sleep when a sharp voice rang out from Patrick’s room.

_“What the fuck!?”_

The exclamation resounded in the apartment. However, the apartment was quiet enough that Joe could also clearly hear the hissed whispers that followed.

 _“Keep your voice down”_ that was Pete, Joe was sure.

_“Fine, but what the fuck happened, what is this?”_

_“I fell getting off the plane in Vegas”_

_“No you fucking didn’t”_ Patrick was barely whispering now _“There’s no way you wouldn’t have mentioned that, besides, what did you  do, skid down the entire length of the runway and skin both of your thighs?”_

Pete either stayed silent, or replied so quietly that Joe couldn’t hear it.

_“Ok so then let me see”_

_“No”_ this time it was Pete who wasn’t bothering to lower his voice. The word was spoken flatly, leaving no room for argument. Of course, Patrick wasn’t going to take that lightly.

_“Let me look. They probably need to be re-bandaged anyway, you’re bleeding through in places.”_

_“I said no!”_ there was a bang. Joe was pretty sure Pete had just jumped out of the bed.

_“I’m going to go back to bed.”_

The door from Patrick’s bedroom actually began to open before it was slammed closed again. Clearly, Patrick was out of bed now too.

So too, Joe realised, was Andy. Andy was peering out of the doorway from his own bedroom. He mouthed something to Joe, who shook his head in response.

_What the fuck is happening._

_“Look man, I can only think of a few reasons why you would be so weird about this. I mean you, not wanting to show me something? There’s plenty of times when I beg you_ not _to show me something and you do anyway”_

_“I told you, I want to keep some things to myself now”_

_“Oh don’t give me that, this is totally different”_ Patrick was growling now _“If you don’t let me fucking look, I’m going to end up thinking that you did this yourself”._

What followed seemed to Joe like the longest five seconds in history.

_“Oh my god”_

Then Patrick was bursting through the door. Dressed only in socks and boxers, he seemed to be wringing his hair. He slammed the bathroom door closed, just as Pete emerged from his bedroom. Pete, in contrast was wearing long pyjama trousers, though he too was shirtless.

Joe didn’t know how or why, but it was clear that Patrick had seen Pete’s bandaged thighs and that he had inferred the truth of the situation.

If Joe was thinking it, he was sure Pete was too. Sure enough, Pete looked pretty shell-shocked when, having stood up to turn on the light, Joe brought him into focus.

Pete met his gaze and Joe could see the horror in his eyes.

_“Are you okay?”_

It was Andy who spoke, Joe saw that he had stepped out of the doorway to be better able to look at Pete.

 _“I…don’t…Patrick…”_ Pete seemed absolutely helpless.

Joe wanted to cheer when Andy quickly crossed the room and pulled Pete into a hug.

 _“It’ll be okay”_ he said reassuringly. Joe wanted so badly to believe him.

 _“Did you deliberately hurt yourself?”_ Andy had stepped back at this stage, and was indicating Pete’s legs. Joe supposed there really wasn't any point in pretending they hadn't overheard everything. Andy hadn’t even seen the bandages, but his tone was so clinical, Joe knew Pete wouldn’t be able to deny it.

_“Yeah, but I’m okay. It was just stupid, it doesn’t matter. But now Patrick won’t even look at me, I don’t know what to do, he just walked out-”_

_“Did you guys know?”_ Patrick was out of the bathroom now, and rounding on them _“Did you know that he did this?”_

 _“No”_ Andy shook his head and Pete squeezed his eyes shut. Joe gulped.

But Patrick was already moving on.

_“What if you’d done serious damage? What if you’d ended up in hospital, or worse?”_

_“Come on man!”_ Pete was trying to diffuse the situation _“I wouldn’t have done that, I’m careful!”_

_That was the wrong thing to say._

_“Careful”_ Patrick breathed, and Joe knew it was all over _“Careful as in this is something you do, that you know how to do. On a regular basis”_

Pete made a strangled sound and Andy whispered _“Oh God, Pete”_

 _“Please, I can’t do this”_ Pete’s face was turned upwards and Joe realised he was trying not to cry. _“I’m going to go for a walk or something, I don’t know. You can talk to Joe if you want to”_

 _“You knew?”_ Patrick was clearly astounded if his expression was anything to go by _“And no hang on, you can’t just go ‘for a walk’ whatever that means, we can’t just let you go.”_

 _“Let me go or I’ll tell everyone how you found out in the first place.”  
“Oh, that’s how you’re going to play it” _ a faint flush had risen up Patrick’s face _“Real mature. Please Pete, I just mean it’s not safe. You’re not-”_

 _“I’m not what?”_ Pete’s tone was soft, dangerous.

_“It’s the middle of the night, and you’re upset. It’s not safe”_

_“You mean I’m not safe. You mean I’m fucking insane and you can’t believe it took you so long to realise.”_

_“Pete stop!”_

_“I’m not going to do anything stupid!”_ Pete shouted and Joe winced _“I’m going to go for a walk, because I can’t sleep, then I’ll come back here and hopefully go to sleep and you’ll all hopefully just let this go”._

Pete only put on a coat and shoes before he left. It was a sight they’d all seen before. Late night walks were the usual precursor to snuggling in beside Patrick.

 _“Don’t make it seem worse than it actually is”_ Pete paused at the door, speaking directly to Joe _“Cause it’s not, it’s really not as bad as you’re thinking”._ That was meant for Patrick and Andy.

He closed the door softly behind him and then he was gone.

 _“You better start talking”_ Patrick sounded exhausted.

_Where the hell do I even start?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i won't be able to update as regularly now (i had a week off last week) but i do still want to write this fic, so do stick with me! x  
> i was thinking that it would be good to write from pete's pov for a certain stage of the story, but i'm wary to change narrators at the same time. does anyone have any thoughts as to whether they think this would be a good idea or if they'd like it? (i then immediately wanted to write from patrick's view as well, THE DANGERS OF SWITCHING NARRATORS!) so yeah any feedback would be great and thank you all for reading so far x


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and Andy react to the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's very short unfortuantely

_“Why did he even start?”_

Joe couldn’t help but sigh in exasperation. He knew the reason Patrick was asking so many questions was because he was so concerned about Pete. But there were some questions Joe simply _couldn’t_ answer, others he had three times already, and some he would not, under any circumstances, without Pete’s permission.

_“You’d have to ask Pete that, man”_ Joe sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. It had been a long night, one that was getting longer. _“I mean he gave me general reasons, but if you wanted specifics you’d have to ask him yourself.”_

_“But he has to know that this is dangerous”_ Patrick exclaimed, incredulity twisting his features _“Not to mention stupid, that it doesn’t help, that he shouldn’t be doing this-”_

_“Yes, we’ve been over this.”_

_“That doesn’t mean it’s not true!”_ Patrick was cycling between anger and disbelief-Joe knew that both were preferable alternatives to the horror Patrick was probably feeling.

_“I know it’s terrible to say, but, it seems, from what you’ve said Joe, that he is, at least quite careful? Like he’s rarely gotten himself into major trouble with it…”_

Joe wasn’t surprised that Andy could take such an objective approach to the situation. Andy was a veteran of the hard-core scene-he’d probably seen more than his fair share of situations similar to this. That wasn’t to say Andy was callous. Joe knew that Andy was just as shocked as Patrick-it had been written all over his face, and in the tight-set of his shoulders when he’d gripped Pete in that hug, earlier in the night.

_Now Andy has one more he has to look out for._

_“Careful!”_ Patrick spluttered, wheeling around to face Andy _“Both of his thighs were completely bandaged up, I can’t imagine that he was being too careful!”_

_“But have you ever had reason to worry about him before”_ Andy said softly _“Have you ever seen any other sign of trouble, in all the other times you’ve been with him.”  
“No, but neither have you, that doesn’t mean he’s not a danger to himself”_

_“You know well that out of all of us, you would have had the most opportunity to see if anything was wrong”_ Andy said bluntly _“You see him the most and see the most_ of _him”_

_Andy’s not taking any bullshit tonight._

In ordinary circumstances having all but explicit confirmation that Pete and Patrick were someway together would be the biggest item of news on the agenda. As it was, it was second-place to the revelation of Pete’s habit. Joe couldn’t believe the luck.

_Andy owes me twenty bucks._

_“That’s not even”_ Patrick was faltering. This wasn’t how Joe had imagined this would happen- he hadn’t even really thought it ever would. He was pretty sure, based on Patrick’s reaction, that he hadn’t planned on ever talking to them about this.

_“We’re not even…it doesn’t …he’s still with Jeanae”_

_Is that why they never told us?_

_“Anyway, it doesn’t matter”_ Patrick was flushed and seemed determined to get back on topic, _“Pete is what we should be focusing on right now”._

_“Look, realistically it’s not like he’s a kid that we can control”_ Andy had taken off his glasses-a sure sign that he was tired. _“Obviously we don’t like that he’s doing this, but it is his own body, it’s his own decision, what can we do but talk to him? Ask him to try get help, or try help him ourselves?”_

_“We can’t just do nothing”_ Patrick said flatly _“How can we allow him to do this? It’s not good for him, it could be dangerous, no matter how ‘CAREFUL’ he is-”_

_“And what would you suggest, that we take away all his blades”_ it wasn’t often Andy Hurley hissed, but he was hissing now _“He’d just get pissed with us and get more and we would have given him something else to be upset about”_

_“God”_ Patrick seemed to finally be allowing himself to feel dismay _“How did I not know? How did I not see? Why didn’t he tell me?”_

The last question was said so quietly that Joe wasn’t sure Patrick had wanted them to hear. Patrick seemed to be having trouble breathing-they didn’t need another hazard on their hands on top of everything.

_“Look, Patrick, you can’t blame yourself”_ Joe tried to keep his voice calm and level, to soothe Patrick _“Pete didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to see this side of him. Obviously. So you just have to show him that you’re here for him. We all should”_

Andy was nodding now and Joe breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed like this was finally coming to an end.

_“I’m going to wait up for him”_

_“No you’re not!”_ Patrick was clearly alarmed when Joe and Andy spoke in unison. He seemed poised to launch into an argument as to why Pete needed him to be there when he came back. Thankfully, Andy beat him to the punch.

_“No offence Patrick, but Pete didn’t seem too pleased with you when he left-or with any of us. The last thing he needs when he comes back, when he’s, hopefully, more relaxed and maybe even ready to sleep, is for you, or any one of us, to be there asking him questions. Getting him agitated again.”_

_“Agitated? I don’t-”_

_“I didn’t mean just you Patrick!”_ Joe was shocked by Andy’s sudden outburst. It wasn’t like him to shout. _“When he’s like this he’s already agitated. There’s no need for any of us to make him feel any worse than he already does.”_

_“I’m sorry”_ Patrick shook his head _“I just can’t believe I didn’t realise this sooner. How did I not see it sooner?”_

With that he was gone. Joe knew he was upset and he didn’t blame him. He knew Patrick and Pete were closer than any of the rest of them-it must be killing Patrick to feel that he’d somehow failed Pete. Of course this wasn’t true, but Joe knew that Patrick wouldn’t believe that-at least not right now.

_“Man, I just hope that Pete does actually make it home tonight”_ Andy said, before clapping Joe on the shoulder, and heading off to his own room.

_Well shit._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete comes home and Joe overhears a conversation.

Joe was pretty sure that they were all still awake to hear Pete come home an hour later.

_Thank fuck._

Joe hadn’t even been worried about Pete getting home before Andy put the idea in his head. There had been a few times, on tour, when Pete would take off, without explanation, until the early hours of the morning. He’d always come back though-tiptoeing or staggering, depending on what he’d been doing, and curled up beside Patrick-who became so used to it he’d stopped waking up. Then Pete would sleep till sound-check, and none of them would complain because they were just glad he was finally sleeping.

Joe heard Pete moving around in the kitchen area, pouring himself a glass of water from the tap. When Pete appeared in the living area Joe stayed quiet. Maybe Pete was checking to see if he was awake, but after the fuss with Patrick, there was no way Joe was going to be the one who accosted Pete.

Then Joe realised that Pete was holding a blanket and a pillow. Quietly, Pete settled onto the small couch, perpendicular to the one Joe was on. Joe wasn’t surprised that Pete didn’t want to be alone, and neither was he surprised, given the circumstances, that Pete wasn’t trying to crawl into bed with someone else.

_At least he’s back._

Fatigue set in almost immediately, causing Joe to realise just how stressed he’d been for the past hour. Within moments, he was asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Joe was pretty sure his friends would attest to the fact that he wasn’t the nosy type. He was _sure_ they’d describe him as a heavy sleeper.

So neither Pete nor Patrick would have expected him to wake up, in the middle of the night and overhear a conversation. And yet he _did._

_“I just wished you’d told me”_

Patrick’s voice was the first thing Joe was conscious of hearing, even before he’d opened his eyes. Patrick was whispering. Opening his eyes blearily, Joe could just make him out on the couch. Patrick was lying on the couch, his head using the armrest as a pillow, his legs curling short of the end of the couch. Pete was pressed against his side, his head against Patrick’s chest. Patrick was carding his fingers through Pete’s hair as he spoke.

_“You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”_

_“Not this Trick. This isn’t something you should have to know about. I didn’t want you thinking about it”_

Patrick was quiet for a moment. Joe was overly conscious of his own breathing.

_“Do they hurt?”  
“Not so bad now right now. Not as fresh”_

_Yikes._ Joe felt himself wince in spite of himself. He hated himself for the reaction-it was the very reason Pete didn’t want to talk to them about it.

 _“Well that’s good”_ Patrick didn’t seem like he was going to argue. Joe was glad that at least Andy would get a somewhat decent night’s sleep.

_“Sorry if I made them worse earlier, I didn’t realise…obviously I didn’t want to hurt you”_

_“To be fair I was too distracted by your mouth to even notice”_

_“Of course”_ Joe was positive Patrick was rolling his eyes. Another small silence developed before Patrick broke it again.

_“We’ve got to stop all this fighting. I know it’s my fault mostly, I was being too hard on you.”_

_“I don’t think we’ll ever stop fighting”_ Joe could hear that Pete was smiling _“I don’t think we’d be us if we weren’t fighting.”_

 _“That’s not a great claim to fame.”  
“Remember that time I strangled you against the side of the van?” _ Pete sounded awed and Joe didn’t blame him. That had been the worst physical fight he’d ever seen them get in.

 _“Don’t remind me”_ Patrick groaned _“My throat was so fucked after, I could barely even sing and the guys wouldn’t stop with the blowjob jokes”  
“And that time it wasn’t even the blowjobs!”_

 _“The irony”_ Patrick said dryly. Joe knew they’d kill him if they knew he was listening to the conversation. But he didn’t want to possibly prevent them from talking, when they finally were talking and not just shouting at each other.

Pete let out a low chuckle and Patrick shoved him lightly. Pete had his arms around Patrick’s waist and this kept him from falling over the edge.

_“You’ll wake them up”_

_“Nah, we won’t”_ Pete’s voice was muffled on account of the fact that his face was pressed against Patrick _“Who even cares at this stage anyway? They’ve already been up half the night.”_

 _“You know they know now?”_ Patrick’s tone was slightly chastising, but he sounded tired more so than worried _“Or at least I’m pretty sure they do”_

 _“Well I did try to make it abundantly clear to them that you were about to suck me off when you saw everything.”  
“Like a motherfucker” _ Patrick said breathily as if he still couldn’t believe it had happened.

_“More than likely they knew anyway. I mean I told Joe that I loved you the day after we first met”_

_“Well, I’d be shocked if he hadn't taken that with a handful of salt”_

_“It’s great if they do know actually”_ Pete said cautiously and Joe felt his ears prick up _“Cause I would love for someone to be able to tell me what this is”_

 _“Pete”  
“No really Patrick” _ Pete was speaking in a hushed voice now, rather than whispering _“What are we, tell me?”_

_“You’re the one who’s actually dating someone”  
“You and I both know I’d break that off completely if you wanted me to. Besides, she and I have always been on-again off-again and never particularly exclusive.”_

_“I told you way back at the start that I wasn’t sure about anything. I mean you were the first guy I’d ever wanted to be with-and the only one so far for that matter”_

_“Well, I’ll be honest Patrick, you weren’t the first, or the last, but you’re possibly the prettiest guy I’ve ever been with.”_

_“Oh shut up”_ Patrick snorted _“We both know you’re the pretty one.”  
“We definitely don’t both know that”_

_“Tell that to the girls screaming your name at our shows”_

_“I do. Every single night.”_

_Fucking hell, he’s one smooth motherfucker._

_“Well, whatever, I don’t-wait what do you mean I’m not the last, did you hook up with some guy when you went out just now or something?”_

Pete laughed _“A bit of poetic licence. I just flirted with some people. Can’t have myself getting rusty”_

 _“Getting rusty”_ Patrick said pointedly _“Flirting, like subtly, isn’t your strongest point”_

 _“Well, that’s why I practice so”_ Pete was grinning _“I wanna be able to flirt with you so hard”_

Joe wasn’t sure if it was some kind of inside joke between them, because literally 50% of everything Pete said to Patrick came across as flirtatious. Maybe they couldn’t see it anymore.

They’d lapsed into silence once more. Joe actually thought they might have fallen asleep, when Patrick’s voice punctuated the silence once more.

_“I mean, maybe it’s stupid, but it just made me really afraid that I’d lose you. Like what if something went wrong and you ended up dead in a hotel bathroom?”_

_“I am pretty sure that you’re gonna be stuck with me for a while more”_ Pete said drowsily, _“As long as you’ll have me”_

 _“Stuck with you”_ Patrick repeated gently _“Fucking-”_

He kissed Pete’s forehead and Pete burrowed his face against Patrick’s chest.

_“We really should not be awake at this hour, we’ll get nothing done tomorrow”_

_“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m about to fall asleep. You know i always can when I’m listening to your breathing”_

_“I thought you just liked lying on my chest”  
“Well that too” _ Pete sounded as if he was about to drift off _“But the breathing always helps. Feeling you singing or even talking…”  
“I can’t sing right now” _ Patrick said gently _“But I guess I’ve probably talked you to sleep”_

This time they stayed silent and after a while Joe knew they were asleep. It wasn’t long before he followed suit. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sugar, we're falling apart in February 2005.

It would be a lie to say that things weren’t different after that night, but Joe was grateful that, for the most part, things were pretty normal between them. Everything became a flurry of guitar picks, drum sticks and sheet music-before they knew it they were all going their separate ways for the Winter Holidays, various rhythms and melodies still floating through their heads. Intensive practice and writing had been done, and with relatively little difficulty-the break was deserved, though not as desperately needed as it had been a few months previously.

While Pete’s issues were at the forefront of everyone’s minds, they hadn’t become the awful _elephant in the practice space_ that Joe had feared they would. It was mostly due to Pete’s nature-he had a way of making them forget, with his big smiles and enthusiasm. Among themselves, Joe, Patrick and Andy had resolved to keep an eye out on him-hopefully subtly enough so as not to make him feel alienated. Patrick would be seeing Pete over the break, which everyone knew could _only_ help. Pete had been so excited when Patrick suggested it.

_“Dude yes, my mom would love it are you kidding? Now she’ll be able to give you your present in person!”_

Joe was pretty sure they were all going to be okay over the holidays.

 

* * *

 

 

Joe didn’t remember ever being as excited to get into a recording studio as he was around the end of that January or the start of that February. Well, that was probably a lie-the excitement for their first record had been pretty enormous. But, nonetheless, there was something about this session, _this song,_ which felt really special. Pete, seemingly, had written the bones of the lyrics _months_ back. Patrick wrote the music for the song within ten minutes. It was going to be a _great_ session.

 

_“This could be going better.”_

Joe was glad that Patrick couldn’t hear Andy, from his position in the recording booth. Joe was honestly surprised that Patrick wasn't tearing his hair out.

Pete and Patrick had altered the lyrics to the first verse of the song so many times that Joe had no idea what the original line had been. No matter what they tried, nothing seemed _perfect enough._

_“Man, I’m going to lose my mind if we don’t get this soon”_

Pete had turned on the mic to allow him talk to Patrick. He looked pretty crazed and Joe didn’t blame him-this was taking their toll on all of them. Patrick, for his part, was holding up remarkably well, despite the fact that they must have tried at least thirty versions of the same verse by this stage.

 _“We almost have it!”_  Patrick’s exclamation was more enthusiastic than it was aggravated. Joe was beginning to wonder who this stranger was and what he’d done with Patrick…

_“Maybe if we just go back to the original, I mean that was what you originally thought was best, maybe we just need to try it again?”_

_“I don’t even care, just whatever”_ Pete looked on edge-Joe knew that the producers were getting annoyed with the delay-that was sure to be contributing to the anxiety Pete was already feeling about the violence being done to the song. _“I mean, okay, try that, I guess.”_

Pete snapped off the mic and moved back towards the wall. His sunglasses meant Joe couldn’t read his expression-he was pretty sure that was why Pete was wearing them. From the way Pete leaned his head against the wall, Joe was pretty sure he’d closed his eyes.

_“I’ve been dying to tell you anything you want to hear, cause that’s just who I am this week.”_

The way Pete’s eyebrows raised above his sunglasses, before he removed them would have been comical were it not for the fact that it reflected what Joe was feeling himself.

_That’s the one._

Patrick’s reserved expression, when he came out of the booth, contrasted hugely with the shit-eating grin Pete was wearing. Before anyone could say anything, Patrick turned to Andy and spoke.

_“I just paid for your kids’ college tuition.”_

Pete’s peals of laughter epitomized that which they were all feeling. It had been worth it. They’d managed to make it.

_We might just make it._

* * *

 

 

Joe was a little surprised when Pete caught his sleeve on their way out of the studio.

_“Hey, do you wanna go grab food or something?”_

_“What”_ Joe said a little blearily _“I thought you’d go with Patrick, he said earlier-?”_

 _“Not tonight”_ Pete shifted from one foot to the other _“I mean it’s okay if you don’t want to. Just…”_

_Just?_

_“Just”_ Pete continued, avoiding Joe’s eyes _“I don’t really want to go home right now, and I don’t really want to be alone either, and I don’t want to ruin Patrick’s vibe, he’s feeling pretty pumped right now”_

 _“Okay dude”_ Joe had to admit, he was pretty confused. It was only a little earlier that Pete had seemed pretty “pumped” himself. _“Anywhere in particular you want to go?”_

 _“Literally anywhere”_ Pete exhaled noisily _“You pick, I don’t care”_

It was late enough that the diner they ended up in was pretty empty. Joe hadn’t realised how hungry he was until they walked in-they’d worked most of the day without a break. For several minutes, Joe didn’t so much as look at Pete, he was so intent on his food. It was a bit of shock, when he looked up several minutes later, to realise that Pete had barely touched his veggie burger.

_“Are you not hungry or something?”_

_“I don’t even know”_ Pete averted his eyes _“I guess it has just been a long day”_

_“What does that mean?”_

_“It means I feel weird, I don’t know”_ Pete shrugged. He switched his gaze from somewhere on Joe’s left to the ceiling and Joe felt his stomach sink.

_“Weird how?”_

_“Weird like,”_ Pete huffed _“Like, I’m tired but I know I can’t sleep. Weird like I don’t want to do anything but I feel like if I just sit in my room my head will explode.”_

_“Is that why you wanted to go out?”_

_“Yeah, I guess”_ Pete closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. Joe was aware of how very tired he looked. The break hadn’t done enough for him. _“I’m really nervous about the album man, okay I’ll put it out there.”_

 _“Nervous?”_ nerves were nothing new to Pete, or any of them. Pete had always said that, while it seemed unlikely, he still got stage-fright _“More nervous than usual I assume, given that you’re actually telling me about it.”_

 _“Yes”_ Pete exhaled the word _“I dunno man, I just feel like this can’t work. Like this is all going to fall out from under our feet.”_

_“What are you talking about man, this is gonna be our best album yet?”_

_“I can’t do it”_ Pete’s statement was made blankly, eyes staring straight ahead. Joe had _never_ seen Pete quite like this. _“This is all too much, it’s all moving too fast and I’m not ever going to be ready for it”_

_“Do you mean like press and stuff or-”_

_“Press, fans, love, hate, it’s all too much. There’s too much pressure and I just don’t even, I can’t-”_

Pete cut off and his breath started coming in gasps. _This,_ Joe realised, _was why Pete didn’t want to be around Patrick._

_He can’t have him see him like this._

_“Listen, just breathe all right?”_ Joe hated that he had no idea how to help Pete, what to say. The situation was out of his control, and he was becoming increasingly aware of how dangerous that could be. _“Just breathe in and out okay, count the breaths real slow.”_

Joe was sure that Pete had learned actual techniques to calm himself down, and it was as a result of that, rather than Joe’s pathetic attempts, that he managed to regain control of his breathing. Pete was pale. He swallowed hard as he looked up at Joe.

 _“This is what I mean man”_ he shook his head in disbelief _“How am I meant to go around and talk to fans and play shows and do interviews and have my life in order when I don’t. My life is out of fucking control. I’m-”_

Pete laughed incredulously and Joe’s stomach twisted.

_“This is gonna kill me, I swear to God, I’m not gonna make it.”_

_“I know this is scary, all right?”_ Joe interjected when Pete trailed off _“And I know there’s more pressure on you than us, cause you’ve always been the guy at the front of all this”_

_“And it shouldn’t be me, Patrick’s the one who deserves it”_

_“It’s always been you for a reason man. You have the charisma. You’re really great at what you do. We wouldn’t have you out front if you weren’t”_

_“I don't believe that anymore”_ Pete was shaking his head again _“I don’t feel like that same kid from the hard-core scene. Hell, I don’t even feel like the same guy who was on tour this summer. I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore, I’m no good at it.”_

_“We all believe in you man. The fans all believe in you.”_

_“I’ll never believe in anything again, if that’s the case”_

Joe was genuinely alarmed. Pete was more anxious than Joe had seen him in a long time-possibly ever.

_“Okay, well how about we worry about the future tomorrow? I think we both just need to sleep. If you don’t want to sleep with Patrick, you can sleep with me if you want to, I know that’s not really your thing but you can, you always can”_

_“I’d keep you up all night, I’m not going to do that to you”_ Pete shook his head fervently _“I’ll try Patrick, but to be honest for the last week I’ve been pacing most nights.”_

_“Have you been…taking all your meds and stuff?”_

That had been one of the consequences of the events prior to Christmas. They’d all become aware of Pete’s various prescriptions. Joe hated himself for asking, he only hoped that Pete didn’t return the sentiment.

_“I’ve been taking my meds, I’ve been not taking my meds, I’ve been taking too much and too little. All the noise in my head just won’t shut off. I used to be able to make it shut off, or turn it down at least.”_

Pete blinked.

“ _I just want to turn it all off.”_

* * *

 

 

Pete had calmed himself down enough for Joe to get them home. He didn’t hear Pete pacing during the night, but he didn’t hear him go into Patrick’s room either. He was pretty sure that Pete was just suffering in silence, something he was all too prone to do. Joe resolved to try get Pete to open up to him more, to try prevent things from getting so bad that they’d spill over in bursts of panic and anger, as they had been doing lately. He was also determined to read up on techniques to help people suffering from bouts of anxiety, or depressive episodes-he wasn’t sure what to characterise Pete’s latest episode as. More than likely it was a combination of both.

 

* * *

 

 

About a week later they got a call from their manager. Pete had tried to kill himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mean i don't know if you all knew it was coming, but this is why i was focusing so hard on trying to keep to the real time-line.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete takes us through the previous week

 

One _week earlier._

* * *

 

 

It was about four hours after he got home from dinner with Joe that the idea popped into his head. Pete was becoming increasingly aware that it was thoughtless decisions that caused him, paradoxically, the least stress. When he did something without thinking, he could do _just that._

_Don’t think just go._

Hurriedly he threw some socks, underwear and his phone charger in his backpack. The journal he was using for writing was already in there. He thought briefly about leaving his meds but at the last second threw them into the bag. Having not slept, he was already dressed and ready to go.

_Don’t leave without telling Patrick._

He was already on his way to the front door when he realised his mistake. Wheeling around, he quickly made his way into Patrick’s room. Practice, from constant sleepless nights, meant that he knew exactly which spots on the floor to avoid, to prevent waking Joe, in the living area, and exactly how to twist the handle so that the door opened noiselessly.

Patrick was curled up, the bedsheets surrounding him like a cocoon. Usually, Patrick only slept in such a position if Pete hadn’t come into his room within an hour or two of their going to bed. Pete knew this because there were nights, such as this one, where he would sneak in to Patrick’s room, then decide, at the last second, not to intrude on his sleep. Silently, Pete crossed the room and crawled in beside Patrick. Half-propped up on his elbow, he looked at Patrick for a moment, watching the rise and fall of his breathing.

_God he’s so beautiful._

_“Patrick”_ Pete breathed, hating himself for shaking Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick’s sleep schedule was almost as fucked as Pete’s these days. He knew Patrick would hate it a lot more, however, if he woke up to find Pete absent the next morning, with no explanation.

 _“You”_ Patrick huffed slightly, not even opening his eyes or turning his head _“are really late”_

 _“Really early more like”_ Pete lay down fully, watching Patrick’s back. He paused for a moment before continuing. _“I’m leaving L.A for a bit”_

 _“What?”_ Patrick croaked. With difficulty, due to his enmeshment, Patrick rolled over till he was facing Pete. Patrick’s face was scrunched up slightly, as he fought sleepiness, his poor eyesight, and the darkness of the room to try focus on Pete’s face.

_I love you so much._

_“Yeah, I just need to get out. Clear my head. Write”_

_“Will that help?”_

_God I hope so._

_“I think so”_ Pete nodded his head. Patrick seemed to be coming to. _“It’ll be good to get a change of scenery, find some new walls to climb and all that”_

 _“Okay”_ Patrick sounded confused more so than anything else. Pete could only hope he hadn’t sounded so unsure himself _“Where are you going to go? How long will you be gone? I mean, there’s that UK Tour coming up in a little bit, we’ll need you here to practice. And of course it’s more fun having all four of us here together.”_

 _“I know”_ Pete sighed. He had no answers to Patrick’s questions. He hadn’t thought that far himself.

 _“I won’t go far”_ Pete said affirmatively _“I’ll stay in Cali, probably crash with some old friends I met back in the day”_

 _“Back in the day”_ Patrick used a crotchety voice _“Okay old man”_

 _“Yeah, yeah”_ Pete said good-naturedly, feeling a smile spread across his face. He stretched his arm so that his hand was on the back of Patrick’s head then placed a kiss to his forehead.

_I think I'm in love with you._

_“Love you”_ he said quickly, moving back, to the edge of the bed. It was time to go.

 _“I know”_ Patrick said softly, peering at him through the darkness _“Listen Pete, are you sure you’re okay? I’m going to miss you, call me when you get the chance, after a while”_

_“Sure thing”_

In a matter of minutes, Pete was standing outside their building. It was 5am and one could tell. It was then that the second idea came to him.

Thirty minutes later he was en route to Las Vegas.

 

* * *

 

 

None of the doctors Pete had talked to seemed to understand that when he said he was feeling anxious about something he didn’t mean he was worried or nervous. He meant that the idea filled him with so much dread that he felt numb. Paralyzed. For the past few months, Pete hadn’t been able to step on a plane without out first downing a cocktail of pills, a cocktail that had been prescribed to him, in increments, by various “ _Hollywood Doctors”_ he’d met when he first arrived in L.A. But the anxiety was never gone.

That was why Pete found himself embarking on a six hour drive, in a rental car, to Vegas. He’d have driven twice that distance to avoid stepping on a plane. The roads were quiet given the early hour, so even with two short breaks, it was around lunchtime that Pete found himself knocking on the door.

 _“Pete?”_ Ryan was agape. Pete had the distinct impression that he’d just woken up.

 _“What’s up motherfucker?”_ Pete beamed. Ryan opened the door with a shake of his head.

_“A little heads up next time maybe?”_

Ryan had called Brendon while Pete was using the bathroom, and it wasn’t too long before he arrived.

Objectively, Pete knew that it should be a big deal when someone from a signed band takes interest in, and then _signs_ some kids who’ve never even played a live show in their lives. However, it was difficult, when said someone was _him_ , to see it like that.

 _“Pete Wentz is in your kitchen”_ Pete wasn’t sure that Brendon was aware that he was speaking out loud. He seemed to be thinking out loud more than anything.

 _“It’s not the first time”_ Pete pointed out, raising an eyebrow _“Or have you managed to forget that first meeting”_

 _“Remember how the keyboard kept cutting off”_ Ryan groaned and buried his face in his hands _“I can’t believe you signed us after that”_

 _“Dude me neither!”_ Pete laughed. In all honesty, Pete wondered if the elation he’d felt the night he’d signed Panic! had blinded him to sense. He should have taken it slower. These kids were younger than _Patrick._ Brendon was only 17. But there was something about them, Pete could just sense it. These kids were going to do something huge.

 _“I can’t believe that we managed to get signed by Pete Wentz but that we still haven’t met Patrick Stump!”_ Brendon’s eyes were wide _“I just want to meet him so bad!”_

 _“Well, why don’t you call him?”_ Pete teased and Ryan rolled his eyes _“I did give you his number after all.”_

_“Yeah right, what am I gonna say “Hi Patrick, you don’t know me but I’m in love with your voice””_

_“Your first mistake would be in calling him “Patrick” and not Mr. Stump as he prefers”_

_“Shut up”_ Brendon grinned and Pete laughed. He was sure, suddenly, that he’d made the right decision in driving out to Vegas. Trying to keep up with Ryan and Brendon’s excited chatter was helping to keep him distracted from his own thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

Pete spent two days in Vegas. He’d taken Ryan, Brendon and Spencer out to dinner, under the guise of showing Spencer what he’d missed out on back on the night Pete had met Ryan and Brendon and decided to sign them. Brent couldn’t be reached.

He talked to them about school and music. They asked about the new record and the band. Their excitement was tangible. Pete knew how badly they wanted this.

The second morning, he’d taken a look at some of the lyrics Ryan had written. They were beautiful. Effortless.

He’d taken a walk around the city, hoping that he would be inspired to write. He could email the lyrics to Patrick if he was away for very long.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t writing. It was just that these days he had no idea if what he was writing was any good, or if he was just putting the thoughts that he wanted out of his head to paper.

By the third day, his thoughts were too loud for even Panic! to drown out.

_It’s time to go home._

* * *

 

 

Pete slept for the duration of the flight from Vegas to Chicago. He’d gritted his teeth as he sat in the airport, waiting for the drugs to kick in.

_It’s never enough, there’s always too much._

The rental car was being taken care of. Pete was glad he wouldn’t have to return to Vegas. Whenever he spent more than a few days in Vegas, he felt drained. He had no idea how people lived there.

Pete had been home for Christmas only a few weeks previously. He knew his family would be surprised to see him. He too, was surprised at the sudden change in events.

He still hadn’t called Patrick.

As he sat in the taxi that was driving him from the airport to his parents' house, Pete realised that his phone was out of battery. He hadn’t charged it at all while he’d been in Vegas. He hadn’t even checked it.

Pete was glad that when he arrived home it was late enough that he could just go to bed without too much questioning. His mom seemed pleased, albeit confused, to see him.

He hadn’t slept well in Vegas. He’d hoped that this, coupled with the pills, would ensure that he passed out relatively painlessly. As it was, he felt he didn’t so much sleep, as lie in a state of dissociation for a few hours.

_What the fuck is happening._

Pete had thought it would be cathartic to be home. That it would clear his head. As it was, he felt as if he was reliving his angst-filled teenage years.

The next two days alternated between blurs of laziness, forced smiles and noise. The noise in his head was omnipresent and immutable. Pete couldn’t remember what it was like to be able to think clearly.

His parents both asked how the new album was coming on. Pete couldn’t remember.

He’d taken to driving around the area, just to have something to do. Years ago, he’d lost his licence and Joe had agreed to drive him everywhere, desperate to get his foot in on the scene. He’d been just a kid back then. Sometimes Pete couldn’t believe how much time had passed.

He found he couldn’t focus on details of the present. Instead, he found himself bombarded with memories, many of which he’d forgotten. Some he’d made a conscious effort to forget.

  _Stop thinking, stop thinking. Please go to sleep. Please let me fall asleep._

 

* * *

 

Pete stopped the car in the parking-lot and realised he had no idea what he was doing there. A headache was pounding in his temples. He hadn't slept in days. The stereo had been playing Jeff Buckley's " _Hallelujah"_ on repeat since he'd started driving. It was the only song he wanted to listen to. Reaching into his bag, he found the bottle of Ativan.

_Stop thinking. Make it stop thinking. Make it stop._

For each sentence he swallowed a couple of pills.

_Just let it stop. Make it all stop._

He only realised the bottle was empty when he reached for another pill.

_There. Now it’ll stop._

It could have been ages, or no time at all before his head came to be filled with a static buzz.

_No more noise._

Pete wondered how long it would be before he fell asleep. He wondered how many of those pills it would take to kill somebody.

_No more anything?_

No more anything could be nice. Pete thought he could feel his eyelids buzzing.

_You forgot about the tour._

Fleeting thoughts permeated the static noise. Pete didn’t so much register them, as watch as they sailed by.

_They need you for the tour._

_I don’t want to tour._

_The band needs you._

_I don’t care anymore._

_Your band needs you._

_Nobody needs me._

_You can’t let them down._

_I’ve already let them down._

Pete was beginning to feel as if he was drowning. His head felt as though it was submerged underwater.

_I thought you always said drowning was the way to go._

_What?_

_Drowning. Slitting your wrists in a bathtub, after taking some pills and seeing which one got you first._

_I wasn’t trying to go. That’s not what this is. I just want to make it all stop for a while._

_If you don’t do something this is the end._

_What?_

_You swallowed a handful of pills._

_How many?_

_You’re going to die._

_I don’t want to die._

_I don’t want to die yet._

_Oh my god._

In the years that followed, his mom would always say that it was a miracle he managed to dial the phone.

_“I messed up...I need some help”_

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two phone calls, and two rounds of breaking the news.

 

It was one of those moments that, Joe supposed, would be burned into his memory until the end of time. Andy’s ashen face, as he’d burst into the room, his cell phone still against his ear. The split second of silence after he told them.

_“Pete’s in hospital. He tried to kill himself”_

_  
_ The crash as Patrick dropped the piece of equipment he’d been holding. The way it felt like his heart had stopped beating, and he was suddenly aware of blood pounding in his ears.

_Pete tried to kill himself._

_“No”_

The way Patrick’s voice had been strong for a moment, as if he’d honestly believed it was a joke. The way it had quickly faltered, his tone becoming questioning then rapidly descending into panic.

_“No. He couldn’t have. He didn’t. Who’s on the phone?”_

_“Bob”_ Andy voice shook _“Pete called him from his car. He managed to ask for help before he collapsed”  
“Oh my god” _ Patrick breathed and then he was gasping, a hand pressed to his chest. Joe felt like he couldn’t breathe, he realised he hadn’t been breathing for the last thirty seconds. He was breathing hard as he watched Andy finish the call.

_You could have prevented this._

_“Patrick sit down”_ Andy was guiding Patrick to the couch. Tears were streaming down Patrick’s face and Joe thought he might have been having an asthma attack.

_He told you._

_“Breathe”_ Joe could see why their manager had entrusted Andy with relaying the news. If it had just been himself and Patrick, Joe was pretty sure that at least one of them would have collapsed.

_He told you he felt like this and you did nothing._

_“We have to go”_ Patrick’s entire body was shaking _“Where is he? I have to go.”_

 _“Chicago”_ Andy was holding Patrick’s shoulder steady _“He called from a Best Buy parking lot near his house and they took him to a hospital there”_

Joe was reminded irresistibly of the fact that some animals were said to go “home” to die.

_How long has he been planning this? Did he plan this?_

_“When can we go?”_ Patrick’s voice was choked and his face was red _“How long has he been there, when did this happen?”_

 _“Just a few hours ago”_ Andy said softly _“They had to pump his stomach”_

Patrick was covering his face with his hands as he rocked back and forth. Andy was keeping his composure- Joe suspected it was purely for his and Patrick’s sake that he was doing so.

_He was asking you for help, last week in the diner. He was all the other times before too, and you did nothing to help him._

_“Let’s go so”_ Joe’s voice was hoarse _“It’s like a four hour flight, we should just go now”_

 _“What if they don’t want us there?”_ Andy said hesitantly _“It was his mom who drove him to the hospital-he’d collapsed by that stage, what if they just want it to be family right now?”  
“I’ll call his mom from the car” _ Patrick sniffed as he stood up, unsteady but determined _“It’ll be fine, but we have to get over there”_

Hurriedly, on Andy’s reminder, they packed clothes to last for a few days. Within half an hour they were driving to the airport.

 

* * *

 

 

It hadn’t been as easy to get a flight as they’d hoped, so the three of them were left waiting in the airport. If Joe was being honest, he was thankful for the delay. They’d found a quiet area to wait in. Patrick had calmed down considerably, and was directing his emotion into annoyance at having to wait. Andy had slipped off to the toilets at one point-Joe suspected that he’d finally allowed himself to feel the emotion of the situation. His face had been slightly blotchy when he returned, at any rate. Joe himself, was actively trying to think of absolutely nothing-his mind was eaten up with guilt.

They all startled when Patrick’s phone rang out shrilly. Patrick snatched it from his pocket to look at the display screen. Joe didn’t know who he’d been expecting, but it was evident, from his expression, that it wasn’t them.

_Maybe he thought Pete was calling him._

_“It’s an unknown number”_ Patrick’s face was blank. He shook his head, his lip curling _“You don’t think…there’d hardly be press calling about this. This early at any rate?”_

 _“I don’t know man”_ that hadn’t been something Joe had considered at all.

 _“If it is, give them a piece of your mind”_ Andy chimed in unexpectedly. He’d been quiet since his return from the bathroom _“Make them wish you’d just told them to fuck off”_

 _“I’ll put it on speaker phone”_ Patrick grinned malevolently. Joe didn’t think he’d ever seen Patrick so excited to talk to an agent of the press.

 _“Hello”_ Patrick’s tone was a mixture of hostility and disdain.

 _“Mr. Stump?”_ the voice was clear but quavering. Joe found himself grinning-some poor magazine intern was about to feel the brunt of Patrick’s frustration.

 _“Mr. Patrick Stump?”_ the voice tried again, the pitch rising even higher.

 _“Yes, this is Mr. Stump”_ Patrick raised his eyebrows as he made a face to Joe and Andy. Joe snorted-this wasn’t usually how these things went-they’d had interviews where the four of them had only been addressed as “Fall Out Boy.” _“What do you want?”_

_“Mr. Stump my name is Brendon. Brendon Urie. I don’t expect that you know who I am but-”_

_“But let me guess, you’re an up-and-coming reporter who’d do anything to get their foot in the door?”_ Patrick said dangerously _“Even calling people on their personal cell phones-I have no idea how you got this number”_

 _“No, Mr. Stump!”_ the voice exclaimed and Joe felt his grin widen further  _“That’s not what this is, I’m so sorry. Let me explain”_

_“No let me explain. There are certain things that you do and don’t do and this is one that you do not do”_

_“Pete Wentz gave me this number”_

_What?_

_“What?”_ Patrick barked after a moment’s hesitation. Joe didn’t think even Pete would give out Patrick’s phone number to a reporter as a joke.

_“He told me to call you if ever I couldn’t reach him, or if there was an emergency. He said you’d always pick up, that you always answer the phone”_

_“Who did you say you were?”_ Patrick’s voice was cautious now, the hostility rapidly having dissipated.

 _“Brendon Urie”_ the voice, _Brendon,_ repeated _“Pete just signed us to his label last month”_

_Holy Shit._

_“Holy Shit!”_ Patrick’s eyes were wide as he looked up to Joe and Andy _“Hi Brendon, sorry for being so rude, I thought that you were a reporter”  
“Oh!” _ it sounded as if Brendon didn’t know what to say to that. Joe felt bad for the kid. Pete had probably hyped him up to the idea of meeting Patrick and then this had happened.

_“That’s okay Mr. Stump, it’s my fault, I probably should have clarified straight away that I was on the label”_

_“I’m really so sorry”_ Patrick intoned, covering his face with his free hand and letting out a groan. He paused for a moment, seemingly at a loss as to what to say. Deciding it couldn’t get any worse, he continued:

_“What can I do for you, Brendon?”_

_“Well, I’m really sorry to bother you”_ Brendon’s voice was hushed and he was speaking very fast. Joe realised how nervous he sounded. Patrick’s response certainly couldn’t have helped, _“But it’s just, we started hearing some things, and then Ryan tried to call Pete a while ago and he didn’t pick up and we’ve been calling and calling and he won’t pick up and we were starting to worry that what we’d heard was true so…”  
_ Brendon trailed off then cleared his throat. Joe eyed Patrick out of the corner of his eye. He hadn’t needed a moment like this, on top of everything else.

 _“Is he okay”_ Brendon whispered and Joe was struck by how young he sounded.

_Didn’t Pete say that those kids were still high-school age?_

_“Um”_ Patrick cleared his throat, looking around at Andy and Joe.

_God, what can he even say?_

_“He’s in the hospital”_ Patrick closed his eyes as he spoke _“Overdosed”_

 _“Oh god”_ Brendon breathed. They could hear shuffling on Brendon’s line before his voice said faintly _“Ryan, it’s true, he tried to kill himself”_

 _“No”_ a second, slightly muffled voice, Ryan presumably, gasped, and Joe was reminded of Patrick’s reaction, only a few hours previously _“Oh god no, Pete, oh my god”_

 _“No Ryan don’t-”_ Brendon cut off for a few seconds. They could hear a few muffled noises before he returned to the line. A loud sniff suggested that he too, like they had been earlier, was near tears.

_“I’m sorry, we just didn’t want to believe it was true, oh my god. Is he going to be okay?”_

_“Yeah, they got it all out of his system”_ Patrick said wearily _“He’s alive”_

 _“Thank goodness”_ Brendon seemed to be working hard to keep it together. He was certainly handling it better than Ryan. Nonetheless, it was apparent he was upset. Joe couldn’t help but empathize with Brendon. It hadn’t been so long ago that he too had had his vision of the indestructible Pete Wentz torn down. And he hadn’t been a 17 year old, newly signed, high-school kid.

_“Listen, Mr. Stump, I know you don’t know us, but Pete’s really done so much for us. It feels wrong for us not to go to see him. Would it be okay, would we be allowed to visit him?”_

Joe felt his heart breaking for these kids, who were trying to do the best they could in the awful circumstances. Quickly he leaned over to whisper to Patrick.

_“They’re just kids, they’ve no idea what they’re meant to do in this situation”_

_Neither do I, for that matter._

_“Of course Brendon”_ Patrick seemed to be thinking quickly _“To be honest, I’m not sure what the story is with visiting Pete right now, and I don’t know how you guys are fixed with school and stuff, but if you want to go see him, we’ll put you up while you’re out there. Pay for hotels or find a place for you to crash or whatever. Whatever you need”_

 _“Wow”_ Brendon seemed taken aback.

_This is the Patrick Stump he deserved to meet._

_“Thank you”_ Brendon said, after a moment’s pause _“That’s far too good of you. I’ll talk to Ryan and Spence but I’m sure they’ll want to see him. Is it L.A we’d have to get to or…?”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Patrick hung up the phone, he’d arranged to pay for their flights to Chicago. He put the phone in his pocket and turned around, looking slightly dazed. Before he could say anything, Andy spoke;

_“Did you notice he kept calling you Mr. Stump?”_

 

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys make it to the hospital.

The slam of the car doors. The roar of the wind in the February chill. The automatic door sliding open, then the squeak of their shoes on the hospital floor.

Joe’s dad had been a doctor. He’d been in hospitals before.

_But never like this._

Patrick suddenly drew up short, from his position at the lead of the group. He turned around and Joe saw the fear in his eyes. He’d been running on adrenaline for the last couple of hours, and it seemed that, finally, his courage was failing him.

 _“I-I”_ Patrick stuttered fruitlessly _“I don’t know what to do now, where do we go? How do we find him? Are we allowed to find him?”_

 _“I’ll go talk to the people at the front desk”_ Andy placed a reassuring hand on Patrick’s shoulder _“See what the story is”_

 _“Okay”_ Patrick sounded short of breath. He stalled for a second after Andy walked away, before taking a nearby seat. Joe sat down across from him. Patrick was sitting rigidly upright, his breathing laboured.

 _“How are you holding up?”  
_ Patrick let out a shaky laugh, _“How do you think?”_

He smiled and it was all wrong but at the same time, Joe knew it was probably the only reaction left to him.

_“I don’t even know what the fuck we’re meant to do now.”_

_“What do you mean”  
“Well, for one thing” _ Patrick gestured around the reception _“I don’t even know if we’re allowed to visit him, I’ve never visited someone in hospital before, have you?”_

 _“No”_ Joe shook his head.

_I never thought I would like this._

_“And then, in a more general sense”_ Patrick’s smile widened further _“What does this mean for us? For Pete? For the band”_

_I thought “us” was the band._

_“He’s not well”_ Patrick shook his head fervently _“Obviously. And we should have seen it sooner. I should have seen it sooner. I shouldn’t have been so hard on him. Shouldn’t have pushed him. What if this was my-”_

Patrick’s voice hitched and he broke off.

_“No way Patrick, this isn’t your fault. It’s no-one’s fault.”_

_“It doesn’t feel that way”_ Patrick rubbed the sleeve of his hoodie across his eyes. Joe felt beyond the point of tears.

_“Well it’s true. It’s not even Pete’s fault. It’s just shitty circumstances, or shitty genes or fucking bad luck, who even knows. It isn’t your fault anyway”  
It’s not your fault because you’re not the one he came to looking for help._

_“I just wish we could go back”_ Patrick pressed on shakily, the sleeve of his hoodie hovering by his face _“To the night he left. I should have asked him to stay. I should have known nothing good could have come of it”_

 _“Don’t beat yourself up over it”_ Joe sighed heavily _“You couldn’t have known, and to be honest, I’m not even sure Pete knew what was going to happen, so how could you have been expected to?”_

 _“Guys”_ Andy had appeared, standing behind Patrick’s seat _“I found out where he is, his mom and sister are here, and so is Bob”_

_Oh here we go._

* * *

 

 

They followed Andy down corridors, up-stairs and around corners until suddenly they were outside a door, and Patrick was being embraced by Pete’s mom.

_“Oh, thank god you’re here”_

Bob, their manager, placed a terse hand on Joe’s shoulder. He looked like hell. Joe couldn’t even imagine the stress he was feeling-it wasn’t _every_ day that managers talked their frontmen down from the ledge.

 _“It’s been one hell of a long day”_ he said quietly and Andy nodded solemnly. It was currently the _next_ day, to be exact. The next morning even.

Pete’s mom was talking to Patrick, holding his face in her hands and hugging him. Patrick was clinging to her and seemed to be fighting back tears.

 _“I know, I know”_ he said quietly, in response to something she’d said. Joe wondered suddenly how much Pete’s mom knew. What Pete had told her. What he felt he _could_ tell her.

When Pete’s mom slipped back into the room, Bob divulged the details. Pete had called him that afternoon. He’d been slurring his words but managed to tell him that he’d downed whatever amount of Ativan he’d had with him and that he thought he was going to die. Bob, from his office, had called Pete’s mom who’d driven over to the Best Buy. By the time she’d gotten there, Pete was unconscious. With his sister’s help, she’d managed to get him to the hospital, where they’d pumped his stomach. He’d been given a sedative and had been sleeping since then.

_It’s probably the first decent amount of sleep he’s had in weeks._

Joe also knew that this type of situation was a “family only” type thing, with regards the hospital staff. Seemingly, Bob had used the _“rock-star”_ card, emphasizing the fact that Pete was a local, to pull some strings. The result of this was that they were allowed access to Pete’ room, the same way his family was. This was affording Pete’s mom and sister the chance to go home and get some sleep.

 _“He won’t wake up for a while yet”_ his mom was saying, as they prepared to go _“The doctors said that the effects would last for hours, give his body a chance to rest”_

Joe didn’t doubt that Pete’s body needed the rest. He just hoped the sleep would also give his mind the chance to recuperate.

After another round of hugs, Pete’s mom and sister were gone. Bob had left for Chicago the second he’d gotten off the phone with Pete, so he too was taking the chance to go crash in a hotel.

_It’s happening._

_“Should we…uh?”_ Andy indicated the door _“Do we go in?”_

_I don’t think I can._

_“Yeah”_ Patrick stepped up to the door, then paused with his hand on the door-handle _“We’ll have to whisper, he’s sleeping.”_

Without further ado, Patrick was slipping through the door, Andy close behind him. Joe took a deep breath to steady himself.

_You can do this._

With that, he was following them through the door.

 

* * *

 

 

The room was in semi-darkness, presumably to better facilitate sleeping. A small lamp, was illuminating the room, allowing them to see Pete.

_God, it’s really happening._

Pete looked so small in the hospital bed, his feet stopping well short of the end, his tiny frame swamped by the bedclothes. He was half-propped-up by a mountain of pillows. His arms were lying by his sides, the short sleeves of the hospital gown exposing scars and tattoos alike.

_His mom probably knows now anyway._

Probably the strangest thing was the contrast between the sterile hospital room and the eyeliner that was smudged around Pete’s eyes. For some reason, Joe was absolutely sure that Pete had been crying back in the parking lot. He wished someone had taken it off.

_“Jesus”_

It was Andy who spoke, though it was so hushed it barely qualified as a whisper. He lowered himself onto the couch that was facing the end of Pete’s bed.

_“It hadn’t really seemed real. A suicide attempt. I can’t believe it”_

Andy broke off and the room became enveloped in silence. Patrick dropped into the straight-backed chair, beside Pete’s bed. Silently he reached for Pete’s hand. For a moment he was still and then he smiled and looked up

_“Feel his hand. Just feel it. He’s so warm”_

Gingerly, Joe crossed the room and stood at Pete’s bedside. He slipped his hand into Pete’s, more for Patrick’s sake than anything else, and sure enough Pete’s hand was warm. He wasn’t sure what Patrick had been expecting, maybe he was just relieved to find some familiarity in the situation. Some familiarity in Pete.

Joe nodded as he let go of Pete’s hand. He retreated to the couch Andy was on, and settled on the other side. Patrick stayed in the chair. He was still holding Pete’s hand when Joe felt his eyes closing some time later.

 

* * *

 

 

It was stress more so than lack of sleep that led them all to pass out in Pete’s room. When Joe woke up, he had the feeling that it was late morning, or maybe just past midday. He blinked groggily. Andy was still asleep beside him. Looking up, he could see that Patrick too was awake, though his awkward position on the chair suggested that he too had fallen asleep at some point. They made eye contact briefly-Patrick looked as lost as Joe felt.

_I still can’t believe this is real._

For a while they just sat there, half-asleep and dozing on and off. Joe wondered vaguely when Pete’s mom was going to come back. He supposed they’d have to vacate the room once she did. A small noise caught his attention and he looked up.

Pete’s eyes were open and he was watching Patrick, whose eyes were closed. He was smiling but Joe was pretty sure his eyes were glistening. For a second no-one spoke. Pete was seemingly oblivious to Joe’s realisation and Joe was so shocked he couldn’t speak. For no discernible reason Patrick looked up.

 _“Pete”_ Patrick breathed. He was visibly stunned.

 _“Hi Trick”_ Pete’s smile was so wide it looked like his face might crack. His eyes were narrow and he cast them upwards, briefly, before returning to focus on Patrick.

 _“Jesus”_ Patrick was reaching for Pete’s arm _“Oh god Pete”_

 _“Can we not, do that?”_ Pete was turning his face away, blinking hard. _“Please just, can we not do that right now, please?”_

 _“I-you…how can we not talk about that right now?”  
“Like this” _ Pete was shifting sideways- making room, Joe realised.

_“For once it’s not me crawling into your bed”_

_“God”_ Patrick hesitated for a second, then he was standing up and gingerly crawling in beside Pete.

Pete winced, as he tried to settle himself. He placed a hand on his stomach and hissed.

_“It feels like I got hit by a truck”_

_“They had to pump your stomach. They barely managed it in time”  
“Guess I deserve it so” _ Pete’s smile was back and he was looking at Patrick in such a way that no-one would think he was anything less than absolutely happy.

_“You shouldn’t even be awake, they gave you a sedative to give you a chance to sleep”_

_“Trust me to wake up just to spite sedation”_ Pete chuckled and Patrick let out an exasperated sound.

_“It’s just like you”_

_“This is just like me and you”_ Pete followed _“Setting in a honeymoon”_

 _“This would be some honeymoon”_ Patrick seemed unsure of whether he really should curl up beside Pete, or if the doctors would say he needed his space _“Is this how’d you’d want it to go, waking up in a hospital bed every morning”  
“So long as I woke up next to you, I wouldn’t care”_

They eventually settled, with Pete lying mostly flat, on account of his stomach pain. Patrick lay against his side, seeming hesitant to do anything that would cause Pete further pain. Pete had slipped his hand into Patrick's automatically-their hands were now resting on Pete’s chest. Pete never stopped smiling.

They were curled up together, sleeping, when Pete’s mom came back a while later. She took one look at Pete, his face smiling even in sleep now, and retreated back into the corridor. Joe shoved Andy to wake him, and they followed her. Tears running down her face, she pulled Joe in for a hug.

_“He looks so happy, I don’t understand why he-”_

She broke off, in sobs and Joe could do nothing but hug her back and say _I know, I know,_ comforting a woman who, in many ways, had become like a parent to him as well.

It seemed, at any rate, that Patrick did a better job at calming Pete down than even a hospital sedative could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean by the nature of the way they rushed over and into the room, it was too disjointed to have them wait a few days before he woke up. But if you prefer it that way, by all means, read this with a pinch of salt. It was just for the easiness of writing that he woke up so quickly


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete's awake, which means the doctors want to talk to him, and he has other visitors.

Pete’s waking up seemed to have been some kind of fluke. The doctors hadn’t expected him to wake up until at least the second day. They had determined that he was suffering from exhaustion and that this had probably contributed to his fragile mental state, ultimately culminating in him making an attempt on his own life.

_“I just want to turn it all off.”_

That had been what Pete had said to Joe, the previous week, in the diner. Similarly, Bob had mentioned that Pete had garbled something about wanting to sleep, when he’d spoken to him on the phone.

Regardless, Pete had woken up, and now the doctors wanted to talk to him. Patrick had tried, on the, gentle but determined, urging of one of the nurses to slip away quietly. But Pete had woken up. He’d begged Patrick not to leave, pleading that he didn’t want to be alone, that he didn’t want to have to talk to anybody. Patrick had only managed to get out of the room by promising Pete that he’d be right outside the door.

So that’s where they found themselves. More accurately, they were in a seating area a short distance away from the door. Patrick had wanted to sit in the corridor, outside the door, but it just wasn’t practical, given the constant movement of hospital staff through the corridors. As it was, he frequently walked the short distance between their seats and the door, paused momentarily outside the door, then returned to his seat.

_This is going to be a hard couple of days._

And it was only the beginning. That thought instilled a deep fear in Joe. For the past few months, Pete had been struggling to keep a hold on the tether that had been keeping him from flying off the handle. That tether had snapped, unexpectedly seemingly, and now none of them knew what was going to happen.

_But he’ll get it back. He’s always been able to pick himself back up._

_What if he can’t this time?_

Joe was sitting with his back to Pete’s door, as Patrick had taken the seat with the direct view of it. He kept drumming his fingers-Joe knew he was anxious that Pete would call out for him and that he wouldn’t be there. It was from this position that Joe saw the figures appear behind Patrick.

_Is that a bowl cut?_

_“Hi, sorry”_ the kid with the almost-bowl-cut had approached Patrick’s side and was tentatively raising a hand in salute _“You’re, uh, I think we spoke on the phone Mr. Stump”_

 _Brandon?  
“Brendon” _ Patrick stood up, his worried frown melting off his face, to be replaced with a genuine smile _“Hi, yes, how are you? I’m so glad you guys made it out”_

Patrick was indicating the other two guys, who were standing behind Brendon. One looked so young that Joe wondered how he’d managed to get to Chicago without parental accompaniment. The other one looked as he’d been following the style advice that Joe was suddenly _sure_ Pete had been dolling out.

 _“Hi. I’m Ryan”_ Pete’s prodigy said _“And I’m Spencer”_ the other one followed.

 _“Hi guys”_ Patrick shook all of their hands. A flurry of handshakes followed, as Joe and Andy followed his lead.

 _“How are you guys doing?”_ Patrick asked, once the handshakes were out of the way.

 _“Um…”_ Brendon’s voice fluctuated hugely in pitch on the single syllable, and he glanced back to Ryan and Spencer  _“I think mostly we’re tired? With everything…going on and all, it’s just”_

Brendon cut off as his voice hitched.  He let out an embarrassed laugh.

_“Sorry, it’s just been a really long few days”_

Then his face was screwing up and Joe couldn’t help but think of a child, trying not to cry, and really they were just children, Joe couldn’t blame him- they’d only stopped crying themselves a few hours ago.

Then Patrick was stepping forward, putting a hand on Brendon’s shoulder to draw him closer to him _“Hey, it’s okay. C’mon”_

Then Brendon was sobbing against Patrick’s chest, his hands clinging to Patrick’s shirt. Patrick, an established veteran by this stage, just kept making soothing sounds, repeating _“It’s okay, he’s going to be okay.”_ Ryan closed his eyes and Joe had a moment of panic, as he wondered was he going to have to step in and comfort a kid whose name he’d only just learned, but instantaneously Spencer was there, gripping Ryan in a hug, echoing Patrick.

_“You heard him, he’s going to be okay. Pete’s fine. He’ll be fine”_

Brendon made a muffled noise against Patrick’s chest and Patrick let out a strangled groan.

_“Just call me Patrick, please. Did Pete tell you not to or something?”_

* * *

 

 

For a while they all just sat there and talked. Patrick stopped pacing the corridors and sat with them.

_“Pete played us the demos-you guys have real potential”_

Ryan’s smile was huge when Patrick complimented his lyrics.

_“In some ways they remind me of Pete’s-in the best possible way”_

Joe couldn’t honestly say that he remembered much of the lyrics. But he did remember the music. Their demos had been basic, sure, but something magical had been there.

_Pete always has had an eye for talent._

They all remembered Brendon’s voice, of course. It wasn’t the type of voice you forgot. His face lit up when Patrick praised his range-the storm had blown itself out and now they were seeing the sun.

They were so caught up in talking that they wouldn’t have noticed Pete’s mom step out of the room, if it hadn’t been for the fact that they could hear Pete’s voice. Pleading.

_“Please don’t make me. Please. Just let me talk to Patrick instead. He can help. Let me talk to him. Mom? Mom?!”_

His pleas were coming increasingly louder-the last one was cut off when his mom shut the door.

Patrick was on his feet in an instant. There was no need for him to explain to them where he was going, they’d all heard Pete and _god_ to hear him, sounding so desperate, so broken. Joe wished desperately that the younger guys hadn’t been there to hear it. Pete wouldn’t want them to see him like that.

_“I don’t want you to think that this somehow makes me less able to watch out for you. I can look after myself, I always have, and you don’t have to worry about me. It’s my job to worry about you.”_

Everyone was trying to act as if they weren’t watching Patrick, as he approached Pete’s mom. By this stage, the doctor and nurses, too, had left the room. They watched Patrick’s back as he stopped, to talk to Pete’s mom. Her expression was a combination of frustration and helplessness, coupled with the underlying worry that laced all of their expressions. For a few moments they spoke urgently, in hushed voices, then the doctor was approaching them. She seemed to understand that this was _the_ _Patrick_ that Pete had been referring to. At any rate, after a few moments, she was gesturing towards the door, and then Patrick was disappearing through it.

_Oh god._

It was obvious that the Panic! guys were trying to act like they hadn’t just heard Pete. But it was written all over their faces, in their darting glances and downcast eyes.

 _“Patrick’s being kept busy”_ Andy said quietly, meeting Joe’s eye.

 _“Yeah, well…nothing unusual there so”_ Joe replied, trying desperately to underplay the situation, in hopes of stemming the worries of the younger guys.

Pete’s voice was still ringing in Joe’s ears. He had sounded so scared, so helpless. It wasn’t a side that Pete usually allowed people to see, and certainly not in a professional setting. But he didn’t know that the first band he had ever signed was sitting out in the waiting room, and had heard him literally begging for help.

 But then again, maybe the fact that they had come indicated that this had never been a typical, professional relationship.

_It certainly won’t be after this._

Pete’s mom hurried by, with a quick wave and a tight nod, her cell-phone pressed against her ear. Joe supposed she was passing on news to the rest of Pete’s family. Pete’s dad and siblings had been in and out of the hospital on various occasions, but they hadn’t been able to drop everything like the band had done.

A terse few minutes became twenty, during which Joe realised that Brendon had a bad habit of bouncing his leg. Then Patrick’s head was popping out of the door and he was waving, indicating for them to come down.

Brendon jumped up then stalled-he seemed to be waiting for Joe and Andy to go first. Joe opted instead to clap him on the back, guiding him in front of him. Similarly, Andy was nodding to Spencer and Ryan that it was okay to go. Joe met Patrick’s eye as he approached the door. Patrick was worrying his lip, his eyes full of uncertainty. Taking a deep breath, Joe followed Brendon into the room.

_“Well what’s up motherfuckers?”_

Pete’s reddened face betrayed him, as did the severely depleted box of tissues on the bedside table. But nonetheless he was trying-he was smiling hard.

_It looks like he’s been practicing._

Pete was holding up his hand to Brendon who grabbed it instantly. Ryan, who’d been quite reserved up to this point, burst into smile and joined Brendon at Pete’s bedside, Spencer close behind him.

  _“I see you’ve met these amazing fuckers”_ Pete was directing that to Joe, Patrick and Andy, _“It’s about time, I say.  Brendon was practically gagging to meet you Patrick”_

 _“Pete!”_ Brendon didn’t seem like the type to embarrass easily, yet clearly Pete had already learned exactly how to do it. Pete let out a peal of laughter as Brendon flushed.

 _“It’s great to meet them at last”_ Patrick replied casting an eye over Brendon _“Though there seems to have been a bit of miscommunication. Just because you like calling me Mr. Stump doesn’t mean you can go around pushing your kinks on everyone”_

 _“Oh my god.”_ That was Spencer.

 _“Hey!”_ Pete interjected, then paused, as he struggled to form a response _“If I remember correctly, it wasn’t_ just me _who liked it”_

 _  
“Like, really guys?”_ Joe broke in, as Pete burst in laughter and Patrick made a scathing noise _“There’s probably literally anything else we could be talking about, don’t you think”_

_“Well I don’t know, what do you think Mr. Stump?”_

_“There are literally children here”_ Ryan said pointedly raising an eyebrow at Spencer, who shoved him in response.

_“Ssh, we gotta keep that on the down-low, otherwise how are we gonna market you guys”_

_“Oh for God’s sake, you won’t need to sell them like that, when you’ve got a voice like Brendon’s and the writing talent that’s there”_

_“I know Trick, I’m just trying rile up the kids”_ Pete ruffled Ryan’s hair-Ryan made a disgusted noise and immediately began straightening his hair back into place _“And it’s working too”_

Pete continued to joke around with the “kids”, as he kept calling them. Joe could see that he really was protective over, and proud of them, no matter how many jokes he made at their expense. But it was easy to forget the reality of the situation. Pete had covered up his arms by putting on the jacket Patrick had been wearing earlier, before he’d slipped into the room. The bin in the corner of the room was overflowing with tissues, some stained with his eyeliner-which he’d reapplied. And Pete kept laughing and he kept smiling and Joe knew that it couldn’t last, because he’d seen this before. Pete could pretend like no one else he knew, but the cracks in the façade were deepening, and appearing at more regular intervals. Pete was so determined to keep the show on the road, even his behaviour in the hospital room was an act-not because it wasn’t like Pete to joke around, but because they’d all heard the ugly manifestation of his mental state, mere minutes before. Pete had been working himself to death and they’d been letting him. But now Pete wasn’t smiling, so much as gritting his teeth, and Joe knew that he couldn’t do it all again. Neither physically nor mentally.

_It’s time he took a real break._

 

* * *

 

 

Pete managed to keep it going until Patrick, who had been watching him with a wary eye, led Panic! back into the hallway, to talk accommodation. The second the door closed, Pete slumped back against the pillows, closed his eyes and refused to say another word.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick calls Joe, to talk about Pete

Joe and Andy drove Ryan, Brendon and Spencer to the hotel that they were going to be staying in, before going back home themselves. Andy was staying with Joe, at Joe’s parent’s house. Patrick had stayed at the hospital-Joe supposed he’d probably be there all night.

_How long can he keep this up for?_

Joe hated the fact that no one seemed to be talking about what had happened. The guys from Panic! had just been happy to see Pete, they hadn’t been looking to stir up conflict or controversy by asking Pete about what had happened, or how he was. But Joe needed to talk about it.

He could only assume that Pete was talking to Patrick about it. It had certainly sounded like he’d wanted to, earlier in the day.

_“Please. Just let me talk to Patrick instead. He can help. Let me talk to him.”_

Pete’s use of the word _“instead”_ had suggested that the doctors had been probing him for answers. For details about what had happened. Of what had been happening, what he’d been thinking and feeling during the past few weeks-if not months or more. The doctors wouldn’t have realised, of course, that Pete was more accustomed to baring his soul and revealing truths through the lyrics he’d write to and for Patrick, than he was to giving honest answers to direct questions.

* * *

 

Around ten that evening, Joe got a call from Patrick.

_“What’s up, is he okay?”_

_“What?”_ it sounded like Patrick was standing outside the hospital, if the noise, of what seemed to be traffic, was anything to go by _“Yeah he’s okay, he’s been sleeping for a while now. Would you have believed it last week; Pete Wentz in bed and asleep by 10pm”_

Patrick laughed in disbelief, but then the sound became strangled- Joe thought it was closer to a sob.

_“Well are you okay then? This has been hard on you, have you been getting enough sleep, enough of a break?”_

_  
“Well I’ve been getting plenty of sleep anyway”_ Joe supposed it had been a stupid question-Pete and Patrick had slept the majority of the past two days.

 _“And as for a break”_ Patrick’s voice hitched and Joe was suddenly sure that the reason he was standing outside in the cold, was so that he wouldn’t have to cry in front of other people, _“I think-Pete-he needs a break from the band”_

Joe had feared as much.

 _“Obviously”_ Patrick’s tone was self-depreciating-it sounded like he was still blaming himself for what had happened _“I was going to tell Pete as much myself, but then tonight he said it to me himself and, it’s so stupid, but it just-to hear it from Pete himself, I didn’t want to hear it, it made it so much more real”_

To Joe, everything was gradually becoming more surreal.

_A week ago we recorded Sugar We’re going Down and now Pete’s in hospital after trying to kill himself._

_“He said he doesn’t think he can do the band till he gets better. But he has no idea what “better” means because he says he hasn’t felt like himself in months.”_

Pete had said something similar to him last week and Joe hadn’t known what to say.

_And that’s why he’s in a hospital bed right now._

_“We were writing”_ Patrick continued, his voice shaky _“Which is how I got him talking in the first place. He wouldn’t say anything for so long after you guys left, he was so drained. He wouldn’t even look at me. I don’t know how I managed to get him talking.”_

_You’ve always been a miracle worker._

_“And then he tells me that he has whole journals full with lyrics back home, lyrics that he didn’t want to give me-remember that fight we had? And that he was telling me now because imagine if something had happened and I’d never known about them. And then-man, he’s saying that he wasn’t trying to kill himself, he’s saying it was mostly an accident, I don’t think he even knows, but then next thing he gets me to take this piece of paper out of the jeans he’d been wearing when it happened. And he’d been writing. In the car, while he was out of his head and I don’t know if he thinks it’s a song, but it reads, to me, more like a suicide note and-”_

Patrick broke off-Joe could hear that he was taking deep breaths.

_“I just, I needed to talk to someone about this because I can’t react like this when Pete tells me something, but how can I not react like this, does he not realise how much he means to us?”_

_“It’s like you said man, he was just out of his head. The pills and all the rest, he just felt terrible and wanted to make it stop”_

_  
“People don’t just wake up one day and want to kill themselves”_ Patrick said bluntly _“It’s something that grows in the back of your mind, bigger and bigger until suddenly it’s not just an idea, it’s an actual plan”_

_That was very specific._

_“Did…Pete say that to you?”_

_“I-”_ Patrick hesitated before continuing in a rush _“I used to think about it okay, mostly before I met you guys but I mean I haven’t in years. I haven’t felt like that in years, but I still had my plan, dead at 21. So for Pete to say that he- that this wasn’t a suicide attempt…”  
_ Patrick trailed off. Joe felt sick. He and Patrick were both turning 21 later that year.

  _“I just wonder if he’s just saying it to downplay the situation. I mean I don’t blame him, but god we can’t do that again. We can never let it get this bad again.”_

 _“Yeah that’s for sure”_ Joe was still reeling from Patrick’s confession. But he’d learned his lesson about avoiding uncomfortable conversations, _“That goes for you too man, don’t ever…do talk to us, if it does ever get bad again_. _I want you at my 21 st birthday party and I definitely want to be at yours”_

Patrick laughed _“Yeah, no, don’t worry. I’m fine. I swear”_

_Well thank fucking fuck._

_“I should go back in to him”_ Joe could hear Patrick shuffling from one foot to the other in the cold _“Hopefully he’s still asleep”  
“That doesn’t sound like him”  
“Yeah well” _ Patrick said pointedly _“What even does sound like him anymore?”_

_He has a point there._

_“You should come by and talk to him”_ Patrick said emphatically _“I mean, I’m sure you were going to anyway, but you really should. You might be able to get more out of him. Things I can’t”_

 _“You two practically read each other’s minds, what would I be able to get him to say that he wouldn’t say to you-or that you wouldn’t already_ just know _”_

 _“Well you’ve been managing to do just that for the past few months”_ Patrick pointed out and Joe felt his stomach lurch _“I mean he came to you first about all the…all the cutting and stuff”  
“Oh man” _ Patrick seemed to be trying to lead him in a certain direction _“That wasn’t so much a matter of him coming to me, as it was me stumbling onto him”_

 _“Oh”_ Joe was amused to hear that Patrick sounded slightly validated _“Well I didn’t know, I just assumed he’d come to you actually looking for help”_

_Oh god._

_“Well, I mean…I knew about it. Before you or Andy. So I should have done more to help him. So-I don’t know if you’re still blaming yourself, Patrick, but absolutely not, if this is anyone’s fault it’s_ mine.”

_And it definitely is my fault._

_“Is that why you haven’t properly talked to him yet? You feel like this is your fault?”_

_“No-” Yes “I just didn’t want to get in the way of anything-I knew that you could do the most for him right now. Like getting him to talk this evening, I’d never have manged to do that”_

_“He’ll want to talk to you about it all. I’m sure of it”_ Patrick’s tone was confident _“But with that UK tour and all, who knows when you’ll get the chance if you don’t take it here?”_

 _How are we going to do that tour?_ _  
_

* * *

 

 

Joe’s heart was pounding when Patrick ended the call. Despite having wanted to talk about this, to Pete and the others, the thought of actually talking to Pete about it all was filling him with dread.

_How can I even begin to make up for this?_


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe finally really talks to Pete at the hospital.

Joe remembered the feeling of trepidation that had accompanied the excitement of the night he’d played his first real show. He’d never felt such a mix of emotions, it had affected him physically-his legs had been shaky and his speech disjointed.

The idea of embarking on a tour without Pete who was, in reality, their frontman was terrifying. Joe was reminded irrevocably of how he’d felt 4 years ago-he never thought he’d experience nerves like that again.

_And yet here we are._

From an objective perspective it was doable. They had a substitute bassist ready to go. It wasn’t as if it was _Patrick_ who couldn’t go-having a replacement singer would be an entirely different matter, one that would probably have resulted in the cancelation of the tour. But an objective perspective didn’t take into account the fact that Pete was the life and soul of their live show. It was _Pete_ who talked to the crowd on stage. It was _Pete’s_ presence and energy on stage that had earned them their earliest fans-an energy that Joe had been trying for years to imitate. It wasn’t taking into account that 4 years ago it had been _Pete_ who had helped Joe to get over his nerves, and go out on stage with Arma Angelus-Pete had always made them believe in their abilities, no matter his stage fright or how little he believed in his own.

_This is going to be a shambles._

Logistics aside, there was also the fact that it felt terribly _wrong_ to just leave Pete. Joe wasn’t sure that they actually would be able to leave for the tour-either Patrick would insist on staying or Pete would beg him not to leave him.

This thought occurred to Joe when he arrived at the hospital the next afternoon and was met by Patrick emerging from Pete’s room, his eyes red-rimmed-from exhaustion or crying, Joe couldn’t tell.

_“Hey”_ Patrick swiped the sleeve of his hoodie across his face quickly-an action that suggested it was the latter _“You ready to fly back tonight?”_  
“Yeah, mostly” they were flying back out to L.A to pick up the stuff they needed for the tour that they’d left behind in their rush _“Have you decided when you’re flying out or…?”_  
“Yeah…no-I don’t know, to be honest” Patrick flashed his teeth-more a grimace than a smile _“I think it’ll have to be tomorrow morning, give him one more night at least.”_  
“Yeah, I figured you would” Joe could only imagine how torn Patrick felt-his duty to the band was so inextricably linked to the duty that he'd developed, with respect to Pete, over the years.

_“Well, he’s been awake for the last few hours”_ Patrick said after a moments pause _“And he was in good humour, he had me in stitches for most of the morning”_ Patrick smiled fondly, watching a point on the floor _“Then he kind of shut in on himself a bit when I tried to talk about tomorrow-and the next few weeks”_

_“Shit”_

_“Yeah”_ Patrick shook his head _“I suppose it’s to be expected though, right?”_

Patrick clapped a hand to Joe’s shoulder as he walked past-he was going to take the time to go back to his parent’s house-as far as Joe was aware he’d barely left the hospital since they’d arrived a few days ago. Joe took a moment outside Pete’s room, to steady himself.

_It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. You’ll be fine._

Joe wasn’t sure if the noise Pete made, on the other side of the door, was in acknowledgment of his knock or not, but he opened the door regardless.

_“Hey Joe”_ Pete was lying flat on the bed, though he’d raised his head to look at Joe as he came into the room. Quickly he shuffled up the bed, till he was sitting upright _“Hey, can you see my junk in this gown?”_

_“No”_ Joe hadn’t noticed and now he was determined not to. He pointedly focused on Pete’s face as he sat down in the chair that hadn’t moved from beside Pete’s bed. Pete was grinning, aware of the problem he’d just created.

_“How are you doing?”_

_“I’m bored as hell”_ that wasn’t hard to imagine, Joe supposed. Pete was accustomed to doing ten things at once, though Joe was starting to wonder how much of that was due to the fluctuations of his moods  _“They say I have to stay the full week. Be monitored and all that.”_

Pete rolled his eyes. By this stage he had pulled his legs up toward his chest-he’d probably flash anyone who came in the door. The result for Joe, however, was that once again, he was struck by how vulnerable Pete seemed-the hospital bracelet, that Pete was twirling, and gown really sent the message home. Pete was barefoot and Joe could see the small “x” on Pete’s ankle. He remembered Pete telling him about how he’d given himself his first “tattoo” one day in the middle of class. The fact that it was still there, over ten years later was impressive, though also suggested just how much it had hurt at the time. Joe wondered why, when he’d asked Pete, all those weeks ago about when his “first time” had been, Pete hadn't included that story.

_“You don’t think that that’s necessary I take it?”_

_“Hell no”_ Pete stopped playing with the bracelet and met Joe’s eyes _“I know we didn’t really talk about it, but it wasn’t-I wasn’t really trying to…you know...”_

Pete made a gun with his hand and levelled it against his temple, before dropping it again.

_“You weren’t?”_ Patrick had mentioned that this was the line Pete was taking. Joe wondered if it was more in hindsight that Pete had adopted this viewpoint.

_“Look…I don’t know okay”_ Pete chewed on his lip _“I mean maybe at the time, just for a second but…I called for help all right. Does that not count for something? No-one seems to be acknowledging the fact that I-”_

Pete broke off, muttering incomprehensibly to himself.

_“I mean, I get what you’re saying, but that wouldn’t mean that it wasn’t a suicide attempt.”_  
“Can we not call it that, please” Pete’s face had flushed and he spoke in a hushed voice. It suddenly clicked with Joe that Pete was embarrassed _“I mean, we get enough fucking emo jokes already...”  
_ Again, Pete trailed off, shaking his head. Joe felt sick. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Pete genuinely _embarrassed._ Pete was pretty shameless, as a general rule.

_“Dude, don’t feel like you have to…make this easier for us or something. I mean like, honestly we just want you to feel better-to get better, and if that means acknowledging this for what is was-”_

  _“I don’t know what the fuck it was”_ Pete interrupted before Joe could continue _“And believe me, I’ve had time to reflect on it, locked up here. It won’t get out of my fucking head, which is ironic, cause when I took all those pills in the first place all I wanted was to clear my head.”_

Joe could feel his heart beating.

_“Clear my head, or shut it off. I don’t know. I wanted peace. I was so tired. I suppose I didn’t really care if I lived or died, but I don’t really think that’s the same thing as wanting to kill yourself.”  
_

_It’s pretty damn close._

_“I mean, even wanting to die isn’t the same thing as wanting to kill yourself, right?”_ Pete was asking a question but Joe wasn’t about to pretend he could answer it.

_“I dunno”_ Pete shrugged and wasn’t that just so _Pete Wentz, “So, like I said, it’s clogging up my thoughts, and the stupid song is stuck in my head, which is annoying-”_

_“What song are you talking about?”_ Joe suddenly realised how little he knew about the incident.

_“Oh god, you’re gonna fuckin’ laugh”_ Pete was smiling again, his eyes crinkling at the corners _“This is the epitome of cheesiness but I was listening to Hallelujah in the car-on repeat for so fucking long. Hell I don’t even know how long I was in that car for. And I know it’s cliché to say a song saved your life, and for it to be Hallelujah of all the songs in all the world”_

Joe was determined not to cry, but if Pete was going to start throwing around phrases like _“a song that saved your life”_ he didn’t know if he was going to be able to uphold that determination.

_“Was it the Shrek version?”  
“What?” _ Pete said incredulously, taken off-guard, and then he started to laugh, leaning sideways on the bed and holding his stomach. Joe huffed an initial small laugh, but found himself joining in as Pete continued. Finally Pete’s laughter subsided and he righted himself on the bed.

_“Was it the Shrek version?”_ Pete repeated, raising an eyebrow at Joe _“It was actually the whole Shrek soundtrack.”  
“Naturally” _ Joe rolled his eyes.

_“God, it still hurts to laugh”_ Pete was gingerly placing a hand on his stomach _“You ever have your stomach pumped?”_

Joe shook his head. Some of his friends had, back when they’d been young and alcohol had only existed to be horrifically abused.

_“Lucky for some”_ Pete’s tone was reproachful _“It hurts like fucking hell”_

_“Is that the only thing that hurts?”_ Joe tried cautiously _“How’s your head, or your arms or legs…?”_

_“My arms?”_ Pete’s eyes were wide-Joe could see right through him _“My arms are fine”_

_“I mean did you do anything else. Before or in the car, besides the pills”_

_“Oh”_ Pete was avoiding his eye now _“No. Good thing too. It was bad enough having my folks see all this”_

Pete flicked his fingers in the direction of his upper arm, where, Joe knew, there were a couple of old scars.

_“I could blow it off as something I used to do”_ Pete clicked his tongue _“I mean the doctor asked me about all the other ones, but didn’t say anything about them to my family. I mean, she has no reason to, obviously, I’m meant to be responsible for myself now and all_ _”_

Responsible was not the word that sprung to mind when Joe thought of Pete.

_“And like”_ Pete cleared his throat-one of the signs that he was uncomfortable _“Patrick was telling me that you all could hear. On the first day that Ryan and the others came. And I was kind of in a bad way. I mean, it’s not like my mom can_ make _me do all the treatment stuff that they want me to do. But, I mean at the same time, she kind of can. I mean, you know, it’s my mom”_

Joe did know. Maybe it was the lifestyle, but he still felt heavily dependent on his parents. Evidently Pete was in the same position, despite the fact that he was five years older.

_“So, bottom line is they want me to do a load of therapy”_ Pete blew air out of the side of his mouth _“Not like it’s ever helped before but sure let’s give it another go”_

_“You were in therapy before?”_

_  
“Oh yeah, a bunch of times”_ Pete’s tone was nonchalant, though Joe didn’t know if that was for show or not. _“And it’s never really helped. How can it? You just tell the therapist whatever the fuck they want to hear to waste the hour, or to get out of there”_

  
_“I guess you’re supposed to try be honest or whatever with the therapist”_

_“Yeah but who the fuck would do that?”_ Pete scoffed _“You’re not telling me that you’d tell some stranger all about what you were thinking and feeling?”_

_“I don’t know”_ Joe had never had reason to go into therapy _“I suppose I just mean you get out of it what you put in. You’d have to want to get better.”_

_“What is ‘better’ though?”_ Pete’s tone was both challenging and objective and Joe instantly knew he’d lose whatever argument Pete was about to launch _“I mean, why is it wrong, hypothetically, to hate the way you look, or just yourself in general. I mean, maybe you’re right when you feel that you’re wasting everyone’s time, that there’s no real benefit of you existing”_

_“Well, for the record, I think you are wrong. About all of it, but I can’t really justify most of them so I’ll just say that you’re not wasting anyone’s time. With the band and music in general. Panic! were so excited to see you, they were so grateful and thankful to you for the opportunity you’d given them. And I’ve always felt the same way, about the chance you gave me years ago”_

_“I mean, I get what you’re saying”_ Pete said slowly, weighing his words _“But the way I feel is that someone else could easily have stepped into my place and it wouldn’t have made any difference.”_

_“We’re only replacing you for the tour out of necessity”_ Joe said quickly _“And literally we’re all lamenting the fact that we have to. We’re gonna fucking suck without you man. I haven’t a clue how to talk on stage! And Patrick’s even worse than me!”_

_“You’ve got a point there”_ Pete chuckled but his eyes were misty and Joe knew he still probably believed his own averments, _“But then again I’ve been teaching Patrick all about how I use my mouth, so he’ll probably be perfectly capable”_

_“You motherfucker”_

_"I could show you too, if you want?_ ” Pete winked obnoxiously and Joe heard himself snort.

_“I’ll pass thanks”_

_“If you ever change your mind…”_ Pete was half-singing the words, smiling all the while.

_“You’ll be the first person I call”  
“There we go” _ Pete was beaming.

_“Seriously though”_ Joe shook his head in disbelief _“I don’t know how we’re going to get through this tour. And I’m not saying that to make you feel bad, just so that you realise that you really are essential to the band. You’re important in general.”_

_“You’ll do fine”_ Pete’s smile was fading slightly _“I mean-I didn’t mean to do you guys this disservice or anything. It was actually one of my last thoughts in the car, I just realised too late.”  
“What?”_

_“I remembered the tour after I’d taken the pills”_ Pete clarified-sometimes Joe wondered how it was he wrote the way he could _“And I felt bad that I’d be messing it up for you guys, but it was too late, I was barely awake at that point.”  
“Wow” _ Joe didn’t know what to say.

_“Yeah”_

_“I’m so sorry”  
“It's fine, shit happens”_

_“No”_ Joe didn’t mean for his tone to sound frustrated but he couldn’t help it _“I mean I’m really sorry that I didn’t…I should have realised you weren’t okay-you were trying to tell me, back in the diner that day”_

_“No I wasn’t”  
“Yes you were, you said the very thing you keep saying, about wanting to turn off your brain or whatever”_

_“Yeah but I mean, look at the context man!”_ Pete had moved closer to him, as if to emphasize what he was saying _“It was me, saying some fucking messed up shit, after a long fucking day. After a long couple of weeks. I didn’t even realise what I was saying, how would you have been meant to know?”  
“I knew something was off, I just didn’t know what I could do”_

_“Everyone’s known something was off with me for the past decade man”_ Pete laughed _“Teachers, therapists, my parents, old girlfriends, old boyfriends. So no, there’s no way you can be personally held accountable for this.”_

_“But you got worse, in the last few months”_

_“Yeah I did”_ Pete’s eyes lit up with something Joe couldn’t have described-it was close to disbelief, almost awe _“And I knew it better than anybody. It wasn’t like everybody thinks, especially when the word ‘bi-polar’ is involved. I knew I was getting worse. I knew I was having a sort of extended episode-honestly the only thing worse than not knowing is people thinking that you don’t know that you're not totally okay. Anyway, my point is I did nothing concrete to get help, or to help myself, so don’t you dare blame yourself.”_

Joe was focusing on keeping his breathing level, all the while watching Pete’s face. Pete was worrying his lip with his teeth. Eventually Pete looked up again.

_“I knew you’d blame yourself. But yeah, don’t. It doesn’t make any sense to.”_

_“That’s hard to really believe though”_

_“Dude, you’re preaching to the choir”_ Pete’s smile was back _“Everyone keeps telling me it’s not my fault-if it’s not mine who's is it?”  
“It’s not your fault, it’s genetics and-“ _ Joe started before Pete cut him off

_“See! Did I not just fucking say-!”_

_“Okay, I’ll take your point”_ Joe conceded, running a hand through his hair _“I guess really, it’s no one’s fault anyway”_

_“That’s what we tell the doctors to get them to fuck off”_ Pete nodded smugly.

_“Dude you can’t honestly-”_

_“I’m kidding man”_ Pete laughed easily _“Mostly anyway”_

_He’s got to stop doing this to himself._

_“Umm”_ Pete’s tone was hesitant now, his eyes wide _“Did Patrick say anything to you about more visitors?”_

_“No…?”_ Joe racked his brain. He didn’t think he’d have forgotten something like that _“Are Panic! coming back? Or did you sign some other band without really telling us?”_

_“No”_ Pete’s mouth lifted in a half-smile but there was no real energy behind it _“Well, I mean I’m sure Panic! will be back again, but no I meant has he mentioned Jeanae to you?”  
Oh god._

_“No?”_ Joe wasn’t doing enough to mask his disbelief _“No, I mean, I don’t think he would usually anyway, certainly not now”_

_“Oh, okay”_ Pete’s expression was unreadable.

_“Why did you just ask me that?”  
“Oh” _ Pete repeated, and Joe was sure he didn’t want to discuss the topic _“Well I mean, I haven’t really been talking to you guys about it, but obviously you know that that relationship has never been plain sailing”_

That was an understatement if ever Joe heard one.

_“And, I don’t know, with the whole ‘love life’, as it were, being so rocky it didn’t really help anything over the last while”_ Pete continued _“So I didn’t really want to see her, not right now anyway, but Patrick is insisting that she has a right to know what happened”  
_  Joe was reminded, once again, of the fact that he would never understand the intricacies of Pete and Patrick’s relationship.

_“Well, I mean, if you guys are still together I guess she kind of would need to know. Eventually at least.”_

_“Yeah”_ Pete’s tone was regretful _“But I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face talking to her on the phone. We left things so badly last time”_

_Please don’t tell me-_

_“So then Patrick said he’d call her for me. Just to let her know”  
You fucking didn’t._

_“Wow”_ Joe was speechless _“I don’t know what to say”_

_“Yeah. Neither does Patrick I’m sure”_ Pete chuckled, _actually chuckled,_ before catching himself and adopting a pseudo serious expression _“I mean, I told him he didn’t have to, that I could get my mom to do it if she really had to know. But he said it was fine”_

_Someone give Patrick Stump a medal._

Joe didn’t know if he could ask the question that was burning a hole in his brain but decided that he had to.

_“Does she…know? About you and Patrick I mean…?”  
“I don’t know” _ Pete shrugged _“I mean maybe. Probably. She knew I liked Patrick-I told her as much, and she didn’t care. I doubt she’d care particularly if she knew. But given how long it took you and Andy to catch on she probably doesn’t”_

_There was a lot of probably’s in that sentence._

_“Okay”_ there was absolutely nothing Joe could think to say in response to that. After a couple of moments of silence, during which Pete resumed his twirling of the hospital bracelet, he decided to change tact.

_“Are you going to be okay? When we’re gone. Like in general, but then dealing with us being gone specifically”_

_“Well I’m going to have to be, aren’t I?”_ Pete’s grin was sideways and his eyes were sad and Joe felt the familiar feeling of heartbreak that he’d only come to learn so recently.

_“I’m moving back in with my parents”_ Pete elaborated _“Being a danger to myself and all. I don’t know how much good it’s going to do me-being back in that room had me climbing the walls, it was like reliving my teenage years."_

_“Why did you go back home?”_ Pete had said he didn’t plan anything that had happened, and yet Joe could see no other reason for him having gone back home, no other explanation except that he wanted to be with his family before he died.

_“Gut-instinct I guess, I don’t know”_ Pete lifted one shoulder in a shrug _“I just wasn’t even thinking by that stage, I was just doing what felt right”_

_Swallowing a handful of pills was what felt ‘right?’_

* * *

 

 

Joe had hung around for a while longer, only leaving when Patrick had come back. He’d made sure to tell Pete he loved him, which Pete had laughed at-and Joe didn’t blame him-they weren’t the “I love you” type of friends usually. But nothing about the past week had been usual and after a moment’s hesitation Pete had replied with a _“Love you too”_ of his own.

The fright of the suicide attempt would mean a lot of changes for the band-Joe was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone is interested [here's](http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/how-fall-out-boy-went-from-heartbreak-to-stardom-20060309?page=2) an article where it mentions the x "tattoo" on pete's ankle (cause i didn't know about it until recently and found it interesting, the whole article is a great read)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And all my thoughts of you"

_I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive (now I only waste it dreaming of you)_

_“You’re not dreaming right now”_

_I’m always dreaming when I’m thinking about you._

_I’m pretty sure I dreamt you before we met._

_God, I’m addicted to the way I feel when I think about you._

_“What if it’s too much?”  
It’s definitely too much._

_I’m only me when I’m with you._

_“That’s not true”_

_We both know it’s true. We’re two halves of a whole-he’s the pen and I’m the ink._

_“I don’t think it can be like that anymore”_

_What._

_“It’s not fair to you, you can’t see it now but it’s true”_

_If I lose you I lose me too._

_“You’re not losing me-I’m not leaving”._

_But we can’t be like we were._

_We were doomed from the start._

_“I just want you to get better”._

_You make me better in every single way._

_“You haven’t been well in a long time”._

_Oh so, I only keep myself this sick in the head cause I know how the words get you, is that it?_

_Don’t tell him._

_It’s probably not true anyway._

_“That’s what I’m afraid of. So I need you to try get better. Even if that means taking a step back.”_

_Just._

_Take._

_A._

_Breath._

_“The flight is rolling around. We’re going to get through this for you, will you make it through this for us?”_

_Anything for you, baby._

_But you knew that anyway._

_“I love you”_

_More than words can say._

_“And I’m still yours”_

_And I yours._

_It’s strange being stuck for words._

_That’s his job not mine._

_He doesn’t see that we’re just putting a new address on a familiar loneliness._

_I wasn’t just passing the time._

_It was me and him._

_It’s me and you, setting in a honeymoon, remember?_

_You and me, and me and you._

_Until we’ve got nothing left._

_Even if he left._

_Even then._


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was a real tour in that we went out and played shows and some band played Fall Out Boy songs, but it wasn't Fall Out Boy at all. I had to go up there and do my best Pete impression onstage, because that's all I knew. And I had to say verbatim what Pete says, because I'm an idiot and don't know anything about what to say onstage. It is a tour, so, of course we had a little fun, but every day I was like, 'I never want to sing another one of these songs ever again if that dude's not there.'"
> 
> “We couldn't latch onto Pete, so we had to grow some balls and, like, talk on our own onstage"

 

It was the hardest tour any of them had been on. It was the worst tour too, Joe knew that Andy and Patrick would agree. They were all distracted and unenthusiastic-nobody wanted to be on tour, in the UK, when so much was happening back home. Patrick wasn’t the type to get nervous about performing, but, then again, he didn’t usually have to be their spokesperson on stage. He was shy enough on stage when he could hide behind Pete, and his brash, on-stage banter with the audience. To be the one instigating the audience interaction, well, that was another matter altogether.

It was awkward, particularly at the first few shows, but neither Andy nor Joe was going to hold it against Patrick. It got slightly better once Joe joined in as well. Even the two of them couldn’t manage to achieve what Pete could do on his own, but it was something.

_Just five more shows._

_Just 2 more shows._

_One. More. Night._

A stalemate had been reached where everybody and nobody, wanted to actually talk about it. Pete’s presence, despite his absence, was enormous-he was the silence that hung like a curtain in the tour van, both excluding them from the world around them, and reminding them that real life, the real world, drove on, as relentlessly as their tour van.

The last show they played was probably their best-the end was in sight and they played as if they could propel that ending forward, the more energy they exerted. Patrick looked positively cheery as he waved goodbye to the crowd-he hadn’t cracked too many genuine smiles on stage since the beginning of the tour, but that had definitely been one.

While he mightn’t have been smiling, no tears had been shed on the tour either-at least none that Joe had seen. Patrick had been upset the day he flew back from Chicago-he’d been silent and shaky on the flight to England-Joe had been worried that he was manifesting physical illness due to the stress of the situation. But a few hours before they had been due to land, Patrick had shaken himself out of it; _“Okay. We’re getting through this”_ and that had been it.

As for himself; Joe suspected he’d done enough crying during that week to last him a decade. So, past the point of tears, it was mostly numbness he felt during the weeks in the UK-it was hard to care about anything that was happening.

_Is that what Pete felt like?_

The album still had to be recorded. Hell, the album still had to be _written._ That was next on their agenda; return to L.A, after a week or so at home, to record the album that, just a few months ago, they’d been eagerly anticipating as the record that could change everything.

_Everything is already changed._

Pete had not been in contact with them over the tour, except by means of updates through their manager. Pete-or his doctors, had wanted him to have a complete break from everything that had been causing him distress. That meant no work, probably no Jeanae, no anything except therapy-which he’d reluctantly agreed to try again.

_And no Patrick?_

Joe had no idea when or if Pete was going to join them in L.A. Neither had he any idea if Pete was going to be fit to work on an album any time soon. All he knew was that no-one was going to push him into doing anything he wasn’t ready for-they’d seen how badly that could result.

_“I can’t do it. This is all too much, it’s all moving too fast and I’m not ever going to be ready for it”_

_“Do you mean like press and stuff or-”_

_“Press, fans, love, hate, it’s all too much. There’s too much pressure and I just don’t even, I can’t-_

_“How am I meant to go around and talk to fans and play shows and do interviews and have my life in order when I don’t. My life is out of fucking control. I’m-_

_“This is gonna kill me, I swear to God, I’m not gonna make it.”_

Never again.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe shouldn’t have been surprised when Pete called him, the day they were set to fly out to L.A. And he shouldn’t have been surprised that Pete was already halfway there-he was making his way by car. He shouldn’t have been surprised, because this was Pete and nothing about Pete surprised him, but he was just so afraid that it was too soon, it was only March-Pete had had about a month off in total but still-

Pete said he was feeling good.

He looked it too, when Joe met him at the apartment Pete had found for himself in L.A. Joe felt the strangest combination of pride and something close to protectiveness-the dynamics of the band had done a complete 180-Joe had never felt like Pete was someone he had to protect and look out for, but now he did and probably always would.

Pete looked healthy and rested. That was more important than the smile he greeted him with, because Pete had been smiling the day he’d woken up in the hospital, but for Pete to look _rested_ -Joe couldn’t remember the last time Pete had gotten more than two nights of decent sleep.

If anything, Pete almost looked sleepy. His movements were slightly lethargic as he moved to hug Joe, burrowing his face in Joe’s neck for just a second before stepping back.

_“It’s good to see you”_

_“You too man”_ Pete’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at Joe’s words _“It’s so good to be back”_

 _“How is everything?”_ Joe tried _“How are you, and your family and everyone back home?”_

 _“Everyone’s great”_ Pete ran a hand across his hair, smoothing it back. He had a strip of blonde at the front of his hair now-Joe couldn’t help but be reminded of the story of van Gogh and the yellow paint. Pete saw Joe eying it and raised an eyebrow at him.

 _“You like it? I like it”  
“Yeah, it’s cool” _ Joe hoped Pete wouldn’t bring up the time _he’d_ dyed his hair blonde. He cringed any time he saw one of those photos.

 _“Thanks”_ Pete grinned lazily before sprawling back on the couch. Joe sat down, in a chair across from the couch. It somewhat mirrored their last meeting, though Joe wasn’t going to think about that.

 _“Just felt like a change you know?”  
“Sure” _ Joe wondered idly how long he’d keep the blonde for-Pete had had his hair red for a while last year.

A silenced developed. Joe was about to ask about Andy and Patrick when Pete spoke.

_“It’s the meds”  
“What?”_

_“The medication”_ Pete said slowly, deliberately _“that they have me on now. It’s different. It’s why I’m all…”_

Pete made a movement with his hands that Joe wouldn’t have been able to put words to, but thankfully Pete supplied them.

_“Slow, or sluggish or whatever. It takes a while to get used to new medication”_

_“Oh”_ Joe let his brain tick over that for a second _“That’s tough”  
“Yeah well” _ Pete widened his eyes, a motion that said _“There you go”, “It doesn’t help that I hadn’t really been taking my medication properly for the last forever, so”_

Joe wondered where this was all coming from. He hadn’t even tried to ask Pete for any details and here Pete was supplying them, with almost compulsive honesty. As if he’d read his mind, Pete continued on:

_“I decided to give it a proper try this time. Like you said”_

_“The meds?”  
“No, the therapy” _ Pete wasn’t looking at him, but he wasn’t avoiding his eye either. _“I was thinking about what you said, about getting out of it what you put in and I decided, Fuck It, I’ll put a lot in it this time”_

Joe’s breathing felt constricted.

 _“That’s great man”_ he replied as soon as he could _“And has it been helping? Or working…?”_

 _“Well, my therapist is happy with me”_ Pete’s tone was slightly incredulous _“Which has literally_ never _happened to me before, so I must be doing something right”_

Pete quirked an eyebrow and Joe laughed-that wasn’t hard to imagine.

_“And so I think I’m better at talking about stuff now. Cause after the first few sessions were awkward I just decided to talk the shit out of my therapist, just literally not stop talking and I don’t know, I just-”_

Pete broke off again, running hand over his hair before continuing

_“Got some stuff off my chest and for some reason it’s not as heavy now.”_

Pete broke off, then rolled his eyes, before finally meeting Joe’s.

 _“Or maybe it’s just that now I’m too pumped full of meds to feel embarrassed about talking about this stuff. Either way…”  
_ Pete shrugged. Joe didn’t know what to say. Thankfully it was at that moment that Patrick came through the door, a grocery bag in tow-which he promptly set down as soon as he saw them-Pete sprawled on the couch and Joe sitting upright in his chair.

 _“Hey!”_ Patrick’s voice was infused with an energy Joe would usually associate with Pete.

_It’s like they’re two halves of a whole._

_“Hey Trick”_ Pete was grinning lazily from the couch. He made a move as if to get up, but Patrick was crossing the floor to meet him at the couch. The result was Patrick gripping Pete in a bear-hug, he on his knees and Pete sitting on the edge of the couch.

It wasn’t often Joe saw Patrick being as physically affectionate as Pete, but he was seeing it now. Patrick buried his face against Pete’s neck, both his arms wrapped tight around Pete, before one reached up to the back of Pete’s head. Pete closed his eyes, and turned his face in towards Patrick’s, just letting Patrick hold him.

They were both speaking, in murmurs to each other and Joe was hyper-aware of his presence, his infringement. Then Pete spoke loudly enough for Joe to hear what he said.

_“So how do you like our new apartment?”_

Pete’s eyes were open now and he was smiling, his eyes low and focused on Patrick, little though he could see of his face.

 _“Our apartment, is it?”_ Patrick’s hand was woven in Pete’s hair now and Pete laughed, his hands gripping the back of Patrick's shirt, bunching it between his fingers. Then Patrick was moving back, placing his hands flat against his thighs.

_“I guess I’ll have to see it to answer that question”_

_“Come on Joe”_ Pete was moving off the couch and waving a hand to Joe _“You gotta check out the shower curtain I put up, it’s so funny”._

Then Pete was leading them around the apartment, and he mightn’t have been bouncing off the walls, but maybe he should never have been in the first place. Joe supposed only time would tell, but it seemed, for the moment at least, that Pete was all right.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, how it's been so long. We're so sorry we've been gone. We were busy writing songs for you"


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jump forward to 2006, with flashbacks to 2005.

_“Pete! Over here Pete!”_

_“Smile here”_

_“Look this way”  
“Fall Out Boy, look here!”_

_“Just Pete-look this way Pete.”_

_“No smiling Pete, over here-”_

It was getting easier to tune it all out. Slowly, but surely, it was. In the beginning it had left Joe with terrible headaches, the combination of shouting and bright lights flashing, photographers searching for pictures to sell to an audience who would never see how ugly it was behind the cameras.

It had to be made easier by the fact that it wasn’t Joe’s name they were all shouting either.

It would be a lie for Joe to say he had no idea how Pete was handling it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in awe of him for doing so. The level of scrutiny Pete faced, in comparison to the rest of them, was enormous and frightening. Joe didn’t think he’d have been able to handle it.

_Pete didn’t think he’d be able to either._

They were nominated for a Grammy. Best New Artist. The album had done better than they had even hoped it would.

But _no way_ were they going to win the Grammy.

 _From Under the Cork Tree_ it was called. Patrick had written the soundtrack to the stories Pete had decided to tell. Pete had described (or foretold) some (their) band’s rise to fame (before it had even happened). He’d written songs for himself, and songs for the fans. He written about love and about the time he tried to kill himself.

Almost exactly one year after what had been the worst day of all of their lives, they were at the Grammy’s, nominated for an award.

Even now it was hard for Joe to believe.

It would have been too ludicrous an idea to even consider last year, while they were writing the album. The album was far more polished than the writing process had ever suggested it would be.

Joe hadn’t been involved much in the writing-which had been somewhat of a disappointment to him. Obviously he hadn’t hoped to write lyrics, but he’d thought that the writing of the music would be more collaborative than it had been.

_Next time it will be, for sure._

From what he’d seen himself, or from what Patrick had told him, however, it seemed Patrick had had a tough time editing Pete’s writing. Pete had been honest-and brutally so-Patrick had found it hard, at times, to keep the songs from being too morbid. Even at that, _Atavan Halen_ was, to the informed listener, unmistakably a tribute to Pete’s “suicide attempt”, if one could call it that. Pete didn’t anymore. Patrick did.

Pete had changed. In many ways it was inevitable and necessary. He had adopted an exaggerated persona, to cope with the attention he was receiving. _That Pete_ could face hordes of photographers calling his name, and could do so with dead eyes or a smile-depending on what was demanded of him. It was usually the former. The real indicator, however, _was_ Pete’s smile-he had about ten different ones now and very few were genuine.

In actuality, Pete had been different ever since he’d gotten out of the hospital. In some ways, it was for the better. Pete had kept up with therapy, and seemed to find it beneficial. This was reflected in his writing-he was more in tune with his own emotions. In other ways, it wasn’t so positive. Back when they were still recording the album, the guys from Panic! had stayed with Pete and Patrick, for a while, at their apartment. Joe remembered the first night they had stayed-Brendon had been bouncing off the walls and the others weren’t far behind him. And Pete, still adjusting to his medication, hadn’t been able to keep up with it the way he once had.

Well.

Gone were the vegan-straight-edge days. In was drinking and drugs. In itself, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, Joe knew. But, as with everything, Pete had a tendency to overdo it, and using drugs as a means to keep up with his lifestyle wasn’t a good idea.

But what could they say.

Pete’s highs were productive-sometimes alarmingly so. His lows could be frightening, but most of the time Pete described them as “feeling nothing” and that’s exactly what it looked like. This was the image he was attempting to sell of himself, even though it was clear, to anyone who took the time to look past his face and read his lyrics, that he felt _everything_ -and felt it all so strongly that he could convince you that you had felt it too.

The amazing thing was, however, that very few people even realised Pete wrote their lyrics. Interviewers and magazines objectified him on a level that none of them had quite expected.

Pete found it funny most of the time.

Pete was an attractive guy. He had a pretty face which he was milking for all its worth-Joe was pretty sure that more people were fans of Pete Wentz than of Fall Out Boy. On the flipside, more people probably hated him than hated the rest of them combined. But, it was undeniable, that Pete, with his penchant for makeup and "women’s" jeans, was the recognizable face of their band-and as a result, he bore the brunt of the media and fan approval, or lack thereof.

They all got a good laugh out of the photos in the magazines, which showed Pete, usually, posed provocatively in the foreground, while the rest of them hung in the background.

 But it wasn’t always so funny.

Interviews were the worst-particularly when they were filmed and couldn’t be amended, questions couldn’t be excluded. Questions were Pete-centric. Patrick, by virtue of being the singer and composer would also get a share. Joe was finding that, often, it was more effort than it was worth for him to fight to contribute.

Joe remembered one interview in particular, which had rapidly gone sideways.

It hadn’t been too long after the album’s release. The interviewer was young but what she lacked in experience she made up for in brashness. Joe would have assumed she was into Pete, as _so many_ of the people they tended to meet these days were, were it not for her own, unprompted, declaration that she was not.

 _“You’re just way too pretty. You’re prettier than most girls I know! I couldn’t be with a guy who was prettier than me, I’d want a_ real _man”_

Pete had tried to laugh it off, though it was obvious from the sudden stiffness of his smile that he was uncomfortable.

_“You must have guys trying to get with you up all the time, since you’re so pretty”_

_“What?”_ Pete had been visibly taken aback.

_“Do a lot of guys try to pick you up? Do you let them?”_

Pete was taking too long to reply. While Andy was staring at the interviewer incredulously, Patrick was watching Pete intently his eyes boring into the side of his face, trying to gauge his reaction.

_“Pete’s such a tiny little dude that we’re all able to pick him up”_

_“What?”_ Now it was the interviewers turn to be confused and Joe didn’t blame her. It was practically the first time he’d spoken in the whole interview.

 _“That’s not what I meant”_ she'd said faux-sweetly.

 _“Yeah, well if you’re going to ask stupid questions be prepared for even dumber answers”_ Joe was in no position to be so blatantly rude, but he figured that the situation warranted it, _“So are we nearly done or…?”_

The whole section had been cut out of the interview.

It was, unfortunately, typical for magazine articles to devote considerable ink to descriptions of Pete’s appearance. The blonde was long gone and his bangs were getting longer-the fans were eating it up. Joe still remembered Pete’ expressions of insecurity in his own appearance-he wondered if Pete still felt that way. He imagined it would be hard to.

None of them found it funny when Pete’s appearance was praised at the expense of Patrick’s.

Patrick had always been on the shyer side but it was becoming more pronounced. For each layer Pete wore, Patrick wore two. His hats were being pulled lower and lower and his hair and sideburns growing longer, as if in a further attempt to distance himself from the eyes of their audience.

In his own way, Pete seemed to be doing the same thing. No matter how exposed he was in photographs, Pete could always hide behind his eyeliner and the hair that was long enough now to sweep across his eyes-a barrier between himself and the rest of the world.

_At least he’s found ways to cope._

There had been times, back when they’d been writing the album, when it seemed like it was all going to fall apart.

Pete had been about as stable as one could expect of someone who, just months before, had tried to kill themselves.

Living with Patrick had definitely helped to keep him grounded-though they’d had their share of bitter and blazing arguments. They’d gotten into physical fights, usually, but not always, over lyrics-often times it was one or other of them simply looking to provoke the other into a reaction. It was nothing new but at the same time Joe didn’t know if he should be more or less concerned, now that he had additional insight into their relationship.

_I suppose it doesn’t matter much now._

It wasn’t like Pete told them what the lyrics were specifically about. Joe didn’t even know if he told _Patrick._ But if Joe had to guess, as he was sure Patrick had, he’d say that a great deal of Pete’s writing was inspired by Patrick.

The album was released in May.

Warped Tour started that June.

 

 ~

 

There were some bands you got close to. They’d played a short stint on Warped Tour the previous year and met some great people. They’d actually met My Chemical Romance before the tour that summer even started.

Pete and Mikey had been friendly since the previous year. They’d all loved their new record when it first came out.

It took walking in on Pete and Mikey for Joe to realise that they were more than friends.

It took him that long to realise that things had changed between Pete and Patrick.

He’d backed out of the bunk area so quickly that he was pretty sure neither of them had even noticed.

Pete had noticed.

 _“It’s just fun”_ and _“It’s only cause its summer”_ became _“But I do really like him”_ and _“We have loads of fun”_

In retrospect, Joe realised he _hadn’t_ seen anything particularly intimate between Pete and Patrick, other than Pete’s usual antics, since they’d come back from that UK tour. While he would have expected that from Patrick, Joe still found it hard to believe that he hadn’t realised, in all the time that had passed since then.

_To be fair, Pete and Patrick have been acting like they’ve been in a relationship practically since the day they met, how were you supposed to tell the difference?_

_“Does Patrick know?”_

_“Of course”_ Pete had answered without a moment’s hesitation _“Come on dude, Patrick always knows everything”._

So it seemed.

 

 ~

 

Pete needn’t have told Joe when things ended between him and Mikey-Joe had been able to tell. Pete had been riding a high for much of the summer and the change in his mood was abrupt and apparent.

But he did tell him.

Pete told Joe all about it. About how they’d decided they were better off as friends (though Pete didn’t really believe it). How, racing through cities at night with Mikey, Pete had felt more alive than his medication had allowed him to in months.

Joe supposed it was a bit too much for Pete to talk about his ex to his other ex, and that was why Pete was telling him. At the same time, he was sure he would eventually tell Patrick all about it, be it through lyrics or late-night conversations.

_Patrick will never be his “ex” anything anyway. He’ll always be more than that._

So they all continued on. The Summer ended. They played more shows and they filmed music videos. All the while, the record sales were climbing, and they were getting more and more recognition.

_Maybe too much recognition._

It was something Joe would never have seen coming. Initially, he thought it was Pete pranking them all-the first email had come from someone in their network after all. But it turned out, that day in March, just a month after the Grammy’s, when Joe’s inbox was spammed with pictures of Pete’s dick, that Pete hadn’t planned any of it at all.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete handles the leaking of the dick pics about as well as you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually can't believe myself, please if everyone hates this i will honestly change it, just i really wanted to do it.

_“Pete, what the fuck happened? Call me back.”_

They weren’t touring and Pete wasn’t picking up his phone. Joe couldn’t blame him; his own had been receiving more emails, calls and texts than he could keep up with. Pete was sure to be experiencing the same thing-but a thousand times worse.

It wasn’t as if Joe had never seen Pete’s dick before. The DVD they’d filmed back in 2004 could have brought Pete’s dick to the whole world, if it hadn’t been for a well-placed Bartskull censor bar.  But the difference between _this_ and _that_ was consent.

It had become apparent _very quickly_ to Joe that these weren’t photos that Pete wanted to share with anyone, except maybe a certain _someone,_ and moreover that they weren’t photos he wanted to share with absolutely _everyone._ Joe was pretty sure Pete would be embarrassed by the thought of him seeing these photos, let alone anyone with an internet connection.

_I hope his grandparents can’t use google._

Joe was in Chicago and experience, if nothing else, made him pretty sure that he knew where Pete would choose to take refuge.

Pete’s mom picked up the phone after close to a minute of ringing. Joe would guess that she was checking his number against the list of “Important Contacts”-he’d left a similar list in his own parent’s house.

Pete’s mom told him a number of things.

_Pete was in fact home._

_He had turned off his phone completely for the time being._

_He hadn’t left his room since he’d come home, a number of hours ago._

_Pete had seemed to be in the kind of state where he didn’t want to talk to anybody at all, but she could try see if he’d come to the phone?_

It was five minutes before Pete came on the line.

_“Hey, are you still here or…?”_

_“Yeah, no, I’m still here”_ Joe suddenly realised he didn’t know what to say to Pete.

_“How are y-what happened, man?”_

Joe could hear Pete sigh.

_“Haven’t you got the run-down from our manager yet? That’s how everything seems to go these days after all, everybody going over my head and around me. Like they think I’m a fucking bomb that’s going to go off, like that ship hasn’t already sailed”_

_Ships make return trips._

_“No, I-I wanted to talk to you. Like god, dude, this is so fucked up, I’m so sorry”_

_“Yeah”_ Pete was quieter now _“Fuck dude, I nearly fucking crashed the car when I found out. I was getting all these texts saying “You’re naked on the internet” and then I was looking for the pictures and I rear-ended the car in front of me”_

Pete let out a shaky breath, almost like he was trying to laugh but just couldn’t.

_“I had to turn off my phone. It just would not let up. All these people trying to tell me they’ve seen my junk. It’s just so-”_

Pete hesitated and Joe held his breath, determined to give Pete every opportunity to talk.

_“It’s just so embarrassing-even talking with you right now, I’m so embarrassed. Like-I assume you’ve seen the photos by now-?”_

Joe was startled by Pete’s pause, as he’d assumed it was a rhetorical question.

_“Um-yeah, sorry. I didn’t know what it was when I opened the email. Obviously I wouldn’t have-I’d never want to invade your privacy like that”_

_“Well, invade away because I don’t have any privacy left”_ Pete was speaking in a voice that Joe recognised as one where he was trying desperately to keep from crying _“It’s been stormed and dignity has gone overboard”_

_God._

_“Just…like, that’s my mom’s bathroom in the background of the photos-imagine having to explain this to your mom”_

Joe was pretty sure that, from this moment on, he was never going to risk it.

_“Where did the photos even come from? I mean, who even…”  
“You know, the first thing Bob asked when he called was why did I think now was a good time to do this.”_

_“What does that even mean?”  
“It means, that he, like everyone else, assumed I leaked them. That I put them out there, for publicity or because I’m a narcissist or because I’m a pathetic fucker who wants validation, I don’t know. _ _I mean, I’m all of those things, but I’m not a fucking idiot and I wouldn’t do this. I would never want this”_

_“I know”  
“I mean, how am I meant to look anyone in the eye again? Anyone I’ve ever met, school teachers, the kids who come out to shows-any of them could have seen them by now”_

_“I’m so sorry”_

_“It was fucking Chris”_

_“What?”_

_“Chris. That motherfucker. I’m pretty sure he leaked them”_

_“How would he even-?”_

_“Doesn’t matter how, but he had the means and the motive”_

Joe didn’t think he’d ever say it to him, but it had always struck him as hypocritical that Pete could write an entire album in response to a girl who cheated on him, but then could turn around and get with one of his friend’s girlfriends.

_It certainly would be motive._

_“I mean you saw that fucking letter he posted online for me the other day right? And then this happens. Like hell it’s a coincidence.”  
“Yeah, that looks pretty bad, I’ll admit”_

_“Fucking Chris”_ Pete sounded like he was gritting his teeth _“Hey fucking Chris”_

_“Are you okay though? Like, I’m sure that this…this is you-, do you want company or do you want to be alone…you could come over here, or I could come over to you, if you want or..?”_

_“I think I should be alone right now”_ Pete managed to sound both weary and pent up _“I’ll probably end up killing someone if I have to talk about this too much right now, and more than likely that person would be-”_

_Don’t even dare._

_“Probably too soon for those jokes?”_ Pete laughed despite the failed punchline _“That is if you can call them ‘jokes’”_

Joe could hear Pete’s use of air-quotations.

_“We probably shouldn’t”_

_“Well, whatever gets me through the day”_ Joe was prepared to bet that Pete had rolled his eyes.

 _“Don’t even bother, by the way”_ Pete interjected before Joe could speak _“I may be feeling pretty shitty right now, but not that shitty and besides, even if I did, it would be pretty hard to-I haven’t been allowed to have a lock on my bedroom door here in years”_

_God._

_“And they’ve wised up to a lot of my tricks, and besides, my mom is here. And I’m never going to do that in her house”_

_Not. In. Her. House._

_“So yeah, I’m gonna just go lie low for a few days. Pretend that this didn’t just happen. Then in a week we play TRL and I face the music”_

_At least he’s planning out a future._

_“Okay so…”_ Joe ran a hand through his hair _“Call me if you need anything I guess? Or if you just want to talk or whatever”_

 _“Thanks”_ Joe could hear Pete’s feet shuffling _“I do enough talking with my shrink but-oh god, he’ll probably have seen it by tomorrow too”_

 _“Sign a picture of it for him. Offer to show him the real deal”  
_ Pete was laughing, albeit somewhat in disbelief, as he hung up the phone.

 

* * *

 

 

Less than a week later they all flew out to New York to film a spot on TRL. Pete didn’t hide behind eyeliner or his hair-it was almost as if he was separating himself from the Pete Wentz that _that_ had happened to. That said, he made jokes about what happened with the hosts; he had no other choice. It was the elephant in the room that the pretty much everyone was delighted to poke and prod. So Pete was going to get there first.

Their management crew were desperate for it all to just go away. Joe could sense their frustration in it having happened at all. It was, therefore, a given that Pete too was aware of their disapproval-and, given that it was _Pete,_ he was probably hyper-aware.

However, Pete hadn’t been wrong in saying that much was said and done over his head. The past year had been so rocky that, oftentimes, their management team walked on egg-shells around him. It was the ultimate paradox. The media were desperate to tear a piece from him, fans were wild to get a hand on him, and, all the while, their own management team were afraid to go near him in case they set him off.

Pete hated it.

 

* * *

 

 

The TRL performance was the kick-start to a new tour. They had toured extensively for much of 2005 and were following suit in 2006.

_If we never have another hit album again, at least everyone will know this one._

Magazines were still calling them a straight-edge band. It was laughable at this stage, Joe thought, even factoring himself out of the equation, as some of the articles did.

Pete got hammered after their first show. It was obvious that despite his efforts to remove himself from it, he had seen and read far too much about himself online. Then there were the kids at the shows, who were determined to make sure that Pete wasn’t _somehow_ tragically unaware of what had happened.

_It would probably be enough even to make Andy crack._

The only relief was that, underneath it all, Pete seemed angry rather than sad. He was bitter about the breach to his privacy and about the betrayal by his friend. He was humiliated, and embarrassed about being humiliated-a vicious cycle that fed on itself.

It was the first thing that came up whenever they googled his name.

 

* * *

 

 

They’d played about five shows. Every show had been intense, Pete playing as if he had something to prove and everyone else playing as if they could prove it for him. Joe, therefore, was very glad of the hotel night that they were being afforded-there was no show tomorrow and they had decided to capitalise on that fact.

He tended to either be the most social or the most anti-social guy in the band, and, that day, it was definitely the latter. He’d left the others talking to their sound guys-they’d been considering going out for drinks or food.

_Not tonight._

These days they tended to mix it up when it came to hotel nights. Joe hadn’t realised it at the time, but he suspected now that it had been for Patrick’s sake. Joe was actually rooming with Patrick that night-he hoped he’d be asleep long before Patrick even got back.

_Maybe it’s the smoking that has me so tired._

Joe jumped out of skin when, having closed the door behind him, he saw Pete sitting on one of the beds.

_“Fucking hell you scared the shit out of me man!”_

_“Sorry”_ Pete slurred the word-he’d been drinking. His makeup was running off his face-either from sweat from the show or a post-show shower, Joe couldn’t tell.

 _“Am I in the wrong room or something?”_ Joe examined his key-card, forgetting for a second that it had let him into the room.

_“I switched rooms with Patrick”_

_“Did you tell him that?”_ it was all too easy to imagine Pete switching Patrick’s card for his own, or just stealing Patrick’s card outright, just to rile him up.

 _“Yes”_ Pete dragged out the word-Joe was pretty sure he was drunk, though there was also a trace of exasperation-as if Joe’s suggestion was a ridiculous one that had never occurred before.

 _“All right, whatever so”_ Joe dropped his bag on the floor,  _“I don’t know about you man but I am fucking exhausted”._

Pete didn’t reply. Joe closed his eyes as he rubbed a hand across his face-when he opened them he saw that Pete had moved to stand across from him.

_“Let me suck you off”_

Joe was so startled he took an instinctive step backwards.

 _“What?”_ Joe was pretty sure he must have misheard.

 _“You heard me”_ Pete took a step forward and Joe took one backwards-it was like some kind of dance, and about as stressful as every school formal Joe had been to in his life.

_“You’re drunk”_

_“I don’t care”_ Pete was still moving and Joe had run out of space to go.

_“You wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t drunk”_

_“Come on”_ Pete practically whined the words _“Just let me suck your dick”_

_“No”_

_“Suck mine?”_

_“No!”_

_“Joe, come on”_ Pete’s hand was moving to his own belt and now Joe was alarmed. Part of him had thought that Pete had been kidding.

_“Where is this coming from?”_

_“Does it matter?”_ Pete’s belt was totally off now-he held it up before dropping it on the floor, _“Figure I might as well get my money’s worth out of this dick of mine”_

_“Is that what this is? The photos? Man, I don’t know what-”_

_“Forget the fucking photos”_ Pete’s tone held the strangest combination of venom and silk-Joe didn’t know what the hell he was feeling.

_“At first it was my face, now it’s these photos-there’s always something more important to people than the music”  
Something more important than you._

_“And yet, for every interviewer we’ve met that’s told me just how “pretty” I am”_ Pete practically spat the word _“There’s been someone-a real person-who can’t stand to be around me, who can’t bear to be with me”_

_“Pete-”_

_“Don’t say it’s not true”_ Pete’s tone was apathetic now. He was working the button of his jeans _“There was Jeanae and there was Morgan. Chris just spat on years of friendship. Mikey fuckin Way decided he wasn’t into guys-or maybe just not into me, I don’t know anymore”_

_Oh god._

_“And then Patrick-”_ Pete’s voice hitched on the name and then he exhaled heavily. He paused for a long moment, during which Joe held his breath. Then Pete shook his head, as if to clear it.

 _“Last Year”_ he was kicking off a shoe _“Was a big year”_ there went the other, _“If Patrick doesn’t want me anymore I guess I can’t really blame him”_

_“Patrick loves you man-we all do and we don’t say it enough”_

_“I don’t want your love”_ Pete paused in the removal of his jeans, looking Joe dead in the eye _“And I don’t want your pity”_ Pete resumed tugging down his jeans-they were so tight he had to keep a hand on his underwear to prevent them from being dragged with them. He straightened up at last, finally stripped down to his underwear.

_“I just want someone to fuck me until I forget about the fact that the whole world has seen my dick”_

Joe felt as if his brain had stopped functioning.

_“I need someone to fuck me till I forget their names”_

_Fucking hell._

_“I don’t think I’m that person”_ Joe managed at last. His heart was pounding with nerves, or maybe it was adrenaline trying to prevent him from dying of shock, _“I just don’t know man, I’m sorry”_

_“Kiss me”_

_“What?”_

_“Kiss me and if you feel nothing that’ll be the end of it”_

Joe hated himself for what he was pretty sure was about to happen.

_“Okay”_

Then Pete had crossed the spaced between them. Bunching one hand in Joe’s shirt, he brought the other to Joe’s face and with a sudden slowness that contrasted with everything that had come before it, he led Joe’s lips down to meet his own.

Pete was alcohol and he was desperation. He was a week’s worth of humiliation and months of self-doubt. He was gentler than Joe would ever have expected but the fact was that Joe had never expected or even really imagined this happening. Because he had never really wanted it. Joe kissed back after a moment’s hesitation. He was glad that Pete was keeping his mouth closed, though he could tell he wanted more-this was the very antithesis of the Pete Wentz that they were all trying to sell.

Pete pulled back, leaving his hand around Joe’s neck for just a moment longer. Then he stepped back completely, almost as if he too knew what was coming, as if he hadn’t really believed that the outcome would be otherwise.

Joe took a deep breath.

_“I felt nothing”_

_“Okay”_ Pete wobbled for a second then he was turning. Joe would have expected him to leave, but-be it the alcohol, his state of undress, or the fatigue that Joe was sure Pete was also feeling, Pete moved over to the bed he’d been sitting on when he arrived, pulled back the covers, and collapsed into it.

Joe didn’t move.

By the time he was getting into his own bed Pete was asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatever kind of morning it was, at least it wasn't "the morning after".

It took a few moments, when he woke up the next morning, for Joe to realise why it was he felt so stressed.

_Did that really just happen?_

Joe could hear traffic outside their window-it was always nice to wake up in a hotel, rather than being part of the traffic.

Joe chanced a glance in the direction of Pete’s bed, some terrible part of his brain not only expecting but _hoping_ that it would be empty.

Pete was still in bed.

Pete was still _asleep._

 _Well at least something good_ came of all this _-_ Pete’s sleeping habits hadn’t improved much over the last year. Joe doubted that they ever would.

There had been a time, back when they’d been recording the album, when they’d all been almost _afraid_ to check on Pete in the mornings. Pete sometimes referred to the _“Death Watch”_ that they had kept over him-it was true; everyone had been desperate to keep him under surveillance, yet, simultaneously, they had all been terrified of being the person who would walk in one morning and find him dead.

_It’s not like that anymore._

It was in the shower that Joe suddenly realised what Pete had really been trying to say the night before.

_“If Patrick doesn’t want me anymore I guess I can’t really blame him”_

It hadn’t been about sex and it _certainly_ hadn’t been about Joe. Pete had just desperately needed to feel that someone wanted him.

_And I had to tell him that I didn’t want him._

Joe was kicking himself for how he’d handled the situation. If he’d realised in time what it was that Pete had really been feeling, he could have tried to talk to him, to help him.

_Pete wasn’t in the mood for rational discussion last night._

The lump that was Pete hadn’t moved in the bed by the time Joe came out of the bathroom. Joe was half-dressed and he finished dressing in the dark of the room-though light was creeping in from a gap in the curtains that Pete hadn’t closed fully the night before.

Joe was sitting on the edge of his bed pulling on his socks when he realised that Pete, still lying in bed, had his eyes open and was watching him. As soon as Joe looked at him, Pete turned his face away, burying it in his pillow.

_Is he hiding?_

There was a moment of silence and then Pete let out a groan, the sound muffled through the pillow.

_“Please tell me I didn’t do what I think I did last night”_

_“I’m pretty sure you did”_ Joe wondered how much Pete actually remembered-how much he’d had to drink.

 _“Nooo”_ Pete sounded both incredulous and distressed. He shook his head against the pillow, still refusing to look at Joe.

 _“Afraid so”_ Joe couldn’t help but grin a little, _“Wait till I tell all the girls back home that_ The Pete Wentz _came onto me”_

_“Don’t even-”_

_“Scene king Pete Wentz”_

_“Motherfucker”  
“Pete Wentz from Racetraitor”_

_“They’ll all be so jealous”_

_“Damn right they will be”_ Joe could see that Pete was smiling now too. Pete turned his head slightly to look at Joe out of the corner of his eye, before he hid his face in the pillow again, letting out another small groan.

_“Sorry man. That was not okay for me to do”_

_“No”_ Joe conceded that it wasn’t _“But you’d had a lot to drink”_

 _“Still”_ Pete was shaking his head again _“Imagine if you’d been some poor girl, or, well, just any poor stranger and there I was begging to-”_

Pete cut off. Joe could see that a faint flush had risen up his cheeks.

_“Not cool basically. And not good to be playing into all those bisexual stereotypes”_

The thought had come to Joe’s mind too.

With a huff, Pete was sitting up in bed, keeping the bed-clothes clutched around him.

_“I probably shouldn’t drink so much”_

_“No, you really shouldn’t”_ they all knew that Pete’s medication further exasperated the effects of alcohol-something Pete was liable to ignore these days.

 _“It’s hard to remember that when all you want to do is forget”_ Pete was running a hand through his hair-it was still straightened from yesterday but it was sticking up it all directions. Joe noticed now that Pete’s pillow was stained with the remnants of last night’s makeup.

 _“I know”_ Joe sighed. There were plenty of memories that he wished he could burn from his brain-and none of them quite measured up to the idea of his nudes going viral.

 _“Sometimes, in the morning I’ll wake up and forget it’s happened”_ Pete’s voice was quiet, and Joe felt the now-familiar twinge of absolute pity, that he'd come to associate far too much with Pete.

 _“And then I remember and suddenly I don’t want to get out of bed, or leave the house-the tour bus rather, now-days”  
_  A silence developed and they both let it. Joe honestly couldn’t imagine being in Pete’s position.

_“Did I ever tell you about the first time I saw you performing?”_

Pete raised an eyebrow at Joe’s question. He folded his arms over his chest and over the bedclothes.

_“I don’t think so”_

_“It was way back, I was like 15 or so-in this shitty little venue”_ Joe smiled at the memory. They all claimed that they missed small venues but _none of them_ missed the really small venues-the ones that weren’t even venues. _“And you weren’t playing bass, or anything, you were just doing vocals”_

 _“The glory days”_ Pete rolled his eyes.

 _“Yeah the glory days”_ Joe said and Pete fell quiet again. _“You looked like absolute shit-your hair and your clothes-all ridiculous. You looked like a fucking idiot”_

_“Thanks”_

_“And the whole room was eating out of your hand”_

Pete’s eyes flickered up to meet Joe’s for a second, then, catching himself, he slid his gaze away. Joe was determined to continue. _  
“Everyone at that show. We were all crazy to hear what you were saying. You were unlike anything most of us had ever seen before, a born performer”_

Pete scoffed, a reply on the tip of his tongue. Joe kept talking.

_“I wanted to be you. Anyone there who was anyway musically inclined did. Anyone who’d read a fucking poem was wondering why the hell this wasn’t considered poetry”_

_“I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself there”  
“I’m really not” _ Joe was trying to meet Pete’s eyes but Pete was determinedly avoiding his gaze.

 _“The point”_ Joe said clearly _“Is that you were the legend of the scene for a reason and it had absolutely nothing to do with how you look”_

Pete’s snapped his head up, in spite of himself. His eyes were wide, a slight frown on his face. It was as if he wasn’t sure if he could believe what he was hearing or not.

_“I don’t know-”_

_“Trust me on this”_ Joe said emphatically, bringing a hand to his chest _“Yeah, you’re an attractive guy now but you absolutely were not back then”_

Pete snorted then laughed weakly. He ran a hand through his hair again.

_“Okay, well thanks for that confidence booster.”_

_“And, whatever you look like now, you’re that same person”_

Joe let the sentence hang in the air, forcing Pete to hear it.

_“You’ve got the same charisma, the same raw fucking talent, the same genius brain that can write like no-one else I know”_

_“The same fucked up brain more like”_ Pete squinted his eyes-a self-depreciating action that Joe recognised.

_“You’re more than your body, or your face. Even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes”_

Pete looked at Joe for a long moment. Then he was nodding his head, averting his eyes and blinking hard.

 _“Okay”_ he whispered.

 _“Okay”_ Joe nodded.

_He needs to believe it._

Pete was bringing the edge of the sheet to the corners of his eyes and Joe looked away to give him whatever privacy he could. Then Pete was smiling, the wide smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners-one of his real smiles. Joe hadn’t seen one of them in a long while.

_“So I’m attractive now, but still not attractive for Joe Trohman I guess”_

_“I’m as shocked as you”_ Joe said dryly and Pete let out a bark of laughter.

_“You were out of my league anyway”_

_“Let’s go with that”_ Joe was pretty sure that this wasn’t a story that was ever going to spread further than between the two of them.

Joe stood up to open the curtains. By the time he had done so, Pete was looking significantly more sombre. He was still wrapped up in his bedsheets.

_He’s like an elastic band._

For a moment Joe was stationary, standing in the space between Pete’s bed and the window.

_I wonder what the breakfast is like at this hotel._

Then Joe realised Pete was watching him, shiftily, his eyes moving from Joe to the other side of the room.

Pete cleared his throat.

_“Could you pass me my shirt please? And my jeans, from the…there-?”_

Pete was pointing towards the pile of clothes that he had created-a physical reminder that _yes that really did happen._

_It’s more embarrassing for him than me._

Joe still felt a flicker of embarrassment as he crossed the room to gather Pete’s clothes. A pile of clothes that, _in all honestly_ had been closer to Pete than Joe.

_Oh._

Pete was looking through him rather than at him-his eyes vacant. Joe straightened up and approached Pete’s bed, putting the clothes gently down on the duvet.

_“You know you don’t have to hide them from me, right?”_

Pete huffed, rolling his eyes. _“You have to hide them from everyone man, come on”_

 _“No really”_ Joe was honestly confused. Pete hadn’t had any qualms about it last night, and while, sure, he’d been drunk, Joe had thought it had had less to do with the situation and more to do with the fact that it was him.

_I’ve literally patched up scars for him._

_“You don’t have to be ashamed of them, or of yourself”  
“Yeah, tell that to the magazines and the video editors” _ Pete’s tone was hard now, _“Better yet, tell it to the makeup artists-it would sure as hell make their jobs a lot easier”_

_You walked into that one._

_“Have you-”_ it had been years and this never got any easier _“I know things have been stressful recently-have you-you know…”_

_“I don’t do that anymore”_

Joe hadn’t seen that coming.

 _“What?”_ Joe couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice _“Are you serious?”  
“You can see for yourself” _ Pete said pointedly. He was grudgingly shifting in the bed, pulling the bedsheet aside, and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

_“I wasn’t trying to make you-”_

_“No really”_ Pete’s tone was less hostile now-he seemed almost earnest _“I mean to be honest, I’m almost proud of myself, in a weird way, so really if you want to see…”_

_He’s proud of himself._

_“Okay”_ Joe wasn’t sure what he should do-if he should stand or sit, but then Pete was waving a hand over his thighs and it didn’t matter anymore.

_There’s nothing that looks new._

_“See”_ Pete was grinning crookedly, almost as if he was trying to keep himself from smiling _“Nothing in ages, and, I mean, you know I haven’t gone near my arms in ages but anyway…”  
_ Pete was holding his arms straight out. Apart from the determined few that Joe knew well, Pete’s arms were clear of anything but tattoos.

_He’s getting there._

_“This is”_ Joe swallowed-his mouth had gone dry _“This is really great-I’m so happy for you”_

 _“Thanks”_ Pete _reached_ for the t-shirt Joe had brought him _“So am I”_

Joe wasn’t sure how to ask what he wanted to ask. However Pete, seemed to have an inexplicable gift for knowing what he wanted to ask, even before he did himself.

_“I just wanted to get some control back.  It used to be something I could control-something that was mine, and then it became something else entirely and I just didn’t want it to be like that anymore”_

Pete also had an uncanny ability to leave him speechless.

_“So hopefully it won’t ever be like it was again”_

Joe was having to work pretty hard to control _himself_ right now.

_“No, hopefully not”_

_“I don’t think I’d be able to talk about it with my psychiatrist as easily if it weren’t for you”_ Pete said quickly. _“You were the first person I ever really let see, or talked about it all to so…”  
_ Pete trailed off for a moment before continuing

_“So thank you. For everything you did, for everything you’ve been over the last few years. It’s probably helped to keep me from completely going off the deep-end at times”_

* * *

 

 

Joe managed to find a packet of tissues while Pete was in the bathroom. By the time they went downstairs for breakfast, he was pretty sure that, at worst, it looked as if they’d both just had a poor night’s sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete's in better form than the guys have seen in a while.

_“Look, all I’m saying is, it was worth giving up veganism for pancakes”_

_“We’ve had vegan pancakes before”_ Andy replied good-naturedly. Joe had to give it to Andy-he never rose to any vegan-baiting, and, even more admirably, never tried to convince other people that they _should_ go vegan.

 _“But those never tasted like this”_ Pete lifted his fork up high, admiring the piece of pancake that was speared on the end of it, before shoving it in his mouth. He let his eyes roll into the back of his head before practically _moaning,_ his mouth still full.

_“Oh my god it’s so good”_

_“There is such a thing as enjoying your food too much”_ Patrick was rolling his own eyes at Pete’s overt display.

 _“Never”_ Pete swallowed the mouthful, to Joe’s relief, _before_ casting a beam around the table.

 _“Imagine if I had never decided to try full-cheese pizza again”_ Pete closed his eyes as he shook his head-an expression of absolute faux-wistfulness _“I mean, there’s some things where you just have to try it to know”_

 _  
“I have had cheese pizza”_ Andy said pointedly _“I wasn’t born a vegan. And besides, that can be applied to a lot of things”_

 _“True”_ Pete pursed his lips as he nodded. Then he raised his head, looked at Joe out of the corner of his eye and raised an eyebrow.

_Mother of fucking god._

Pete caught his lip with his teeth as he turned away, as if he was trying to make his grin less obvious and Joe suddenly realised how _absolutely fucked they were_ because this was _Pete_ and there was absolutely _nothing_ more obvious than Pete with somebody else’s secret.

_He’ll settle down once he remembers it’s his secret, not mine._

Already Patrick was eyeing Pete suspiciously, frowning slightly as he watched him over his coffee.

_“You seem in a good mood”_

_“Don’t I just”_ Pete was smiling sagely, _smugly even_ and how ridiculous was it that he was _smug_ about having gotten a full night’s sleep.

 _“Good call in deciding not to go out last night”_ Patrick rubbed his forehead tiredly and Andy nodded in assent _“I’m so fucking tired right now”_

 _“Yeah?”_ Pete actually leaned forward in his seat, seemingly in intrigue _“Not a good night then?”_

 _“No”_ Patrick shook his head wearily, then Andy broke in.

_“You should have seen Patrick trying to-”_

_“No”_ it was spoken more firmly now and Patrick was glaring at Andy, who was smirking at the memory of whatever had happened.

 _“Oh come on!”_ Pete whined _“You can’t do that to me, there’s so many things he could have been trying to do. He could have been trying to start a fight, or trying to dance, or trying to get lucky, or trying to drink more than Dirty did”_

 _“All of the above”_ Andy joked and Pete laughed.

_Now that would be s sight worth seeing._

_“Yeah? So did either of you get any action last night then?”_ Pete waggled his eyebrows in a ridiculous motion but suddenly all Joe could see was the expression on his face last night as he’d stripped out of his jeans.

_“If Patrick doesn’t want me anymore I guess I can’t really blame him”_

 

 _“Well we were both trying”_ Andy said after a moment, when Patrick stayed silent _“Probably too hard and that was the problem”_

 _“Totally”_ Pete nodded, an all-knowing expression on his face and Joe barely caught Andy’s eye-roll, given that he was rolling his own.

_“The trick is never to look like you’re interested or better to actually not be interested at all, then people will literally be tripping over each other, as they throw themselves at you”_

_“That’s big talk for a guy who writes whole albums about_ just how interested _he is in people”_ Andy chimed in and Pete laughed, raising a hand to his chest.

_“You wound me, honestly”_

_“Not to mention a guy who struck out for months on end due to a dick piercing”_

_“Hey!”_ Pete’s expression was pointed now, a caricature of someone taking offense _“If anybody had cared to have sex with me, it would have felt really awesome for both of us”_

 _“The jury’s out on that one, as you told me at the time”_ Andy was grinning now and Pete widened his eyes in a grimace-an expression that said _Yikes,_ if anything did.

 _“Yeah well, the point is we can all do with a friend’s advice at certain stages in our lives”_ Pete said emphatically and Joe snorted. Pete certainly owed a lot to whoever had convinced him to get rid of that piercing.

_“And the other point is that I haven’t heard a good hook-up story in ages, so you all better be ready to share with the class the next time you get up to something”._

Then Pete was pushing back his chair, his plate half-untouched. Pete was the type to taste his food rather than eat it-an idiosyncrasy that was both a blessing a curse. Oftentimes on the road they were left without much food, but at the same time, it was best to eat a lot when food was available.

 _“I’m gonna go make a call”_ they all hated having to make personal calls in the close confines of the bus, where, too often, not just one but _both_ sides of the conversation could be heard. Pete headed towards the lobby area, already engrossed in his sidekick.

 _“Well he seems to be in a good mood”_ Andy said lightly, before turning back to his breakfast.

 _“Yeah, no kidding”_ Patrick’s tone suggested he wasn’t satisfied with Andy’s brief summation. Joe didn’t blame him-while Patrick hadn’t seen Pete last night-or earlier that morning even, they had all seen him at, and after the show last night.

 _“He seems to be doing okay, all things considered”_ Andy added with a shrug, in response to Patrick’s prompt, _“I mean, I thought he’d be even worse than he has been, I’ll be honest”_

 _  
“Are you fucking kidding me?”_ Patrick hissed and Joe startled,  _“He quit the band two weeks ago, did he tell either of you?”_

Joe choked on his coffee.

 _“What?”_ Joe managed, voice slightly strangled from the coffee.

 _“He quit”_ Patrick repeated, eyes wide _“The day the photos leaked. He calls me up and just tells me he’s done. With the band and with everything”_

 _“What the fuck”_ Joe wondered if this had been before or after he’d talked to Pete that day.

 _“I had to convince him to stay on”_ Patrick elaborated, an incredulous expression on his face _“And you know Pete-stubborn as fuck once he gets an idea in his head. It was not easy”_

No one said anything for a second, letting Patrick’s words settle.

_You have to ask him._

_“How are things between you guys these days?”_ Joe posed cautiously, trying to seem more interested in the coffee cup in front of him than his own question.

 _“We’re fine”_ Patrick said after a pause-a question in the inflection.

_“How fine is fine?”_

_“I don’t know, Joe, for fucks sake, how fine is fine? Did he say something to you or something?”_

_“No”_ it wasn’t a lie exactly. Pete hadn’t _deliberately_ given Joe enormous insight into his relationship with Patrick, last night. He certainly wouldn’t have intended for Joe to speak to Patrick, on his behalf.

_So why am I trying to._

_“I think he misses you”_ Joe blurted out, causing Andy to raise his head from his fruit salad and Patrick to do a double take.

_“Pardon?”_

_“Just…I dunno, I get this vibe off him. That he misses you. I mean, it was a busy year and all. And a dramatic year”_

_“Yeah, a very dramatic year”_ Patrick said, exaggeratedly slowly _“And we were crammed on a tour bus together practically for all of it”_

 _“Yeah but-”_ Joe had hoped Patrick would make this easier, _“I mean, you guys aren’t as close-or, well, you’re not the same, we all know that”_

 _“I wouldn’t say we’re not as close, just cause we’re not_ that _anymore”_

_I think Pete would disagree._

_“I just think you should talk to him”_ Joe hoped he didn’t sound as exasperated as he felt. Nothing would be worse than to back Patrick into a corner, _“I mean, in a normal way, don’t make it out to be this big thing, or like I said that you should”_

 _“Talk to Pete. In a ‘normal way’”_ Patrick made the quotations with his fingers, _“I’ll make sure to tell him that those were your exact words”_

 _“Yeah, thanks”_ Joe huffed and Andy laughed, prompting Patrick to grin.

_Patrick doesn’t seem to think that anything is wrong._

But the memory of Pete’s drunken desperation told a different story.

 

 

* * *

 

 

There had been times, over the past year, when their tour bus had felt like a tomb. By contrast, Joe was pretty sure that he could hear Pete singing in the bunk area, either to himself or his iPod, as they drove on to Michigan. Joe found himself smiling at the sound, which drifted up to where he was sitting in the lounge-despite Pete’s notorious singing voice (or lack thereof).

It was sometimes easy to forget that his highs were as much a part of his illness as his lows.

 Not that Joe would necessarily classify this as a “high”. Pete seemed to just be in terrific spirits-he practically bounded from the bus upon their arrival-in contrast to everyone else’s general, collective reluctance. None of the rest of them remotely liked doing press-Pete liked that he could use it to fuel his, and their, image. All of them accepted its necessity.

Joe was going to use the fact that it was _another_ hotel night as fuel for motivation.

It was something said completely frivolously by one of the interviewers that made Joe wonder if Pete’s good humour was more than just that. They’d been cooped up answering five sets of the same questions for about an hour when it happened-at that point they were all going a little stir-crazy.

 _“You must have some good tour stories”_ the interviewer seemed like a nice guy, but so had the other four people-they were all starting to blur together a little for Joe.

 _“Oh plenty”_ Pete smiled mischievously, as if he _hadn’t_ been expecting the question, as if it wasn’t a question they were asked wherever they went.

_“You’ll have to be more specific to get the story you want”_

_“Okay”_ the interviewer shifted in his seat, thinking briefly before elaborating.

_“Well you were at the Grammys last year, and the VMA’s the year before; has there been any awkward celebrity encounters, or embarrassing incidents, those kind of ‘Oh my god I want to kill myself’ moments?”_

Joe wouldn’t even have caught it if it hadn’t been for Pete’s reaction.

Pete opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, a slight frown on his face. Then the frown melted into a grin and he threw back his head and laughed, a laugh that all but screamed, to Joe at least, “ _Oh boy, let me tell you”_.

 _“Oh dude, you have no idea”_ Pete was smiling so wide it looked like his face might crack _“Or well, you actually_ do _have_ some _idea-you and the rest of the world”_

Joe wasn’t sure at this stage if Pete was reacting to the interviewer’s phrasing or his actual question.

 _“But that’s yesterday’s news at this stage right”_ Pete twerked an eyebrow _“And, as everybody kept saying, it wasn’t_ big enough _news to begin with”_

_Good god._

_“Tell him about the really funny thing that happened the other day”_ Pete nudged Patrick with his shoulder and Patrick sputtered into life, recounting some bullshit story that Joe was almost 100% sure he was making up on the spot.

By the time that final interview wrapped, Joe was itching to get out of the hotel, though he was prepared to settle for getting upstairs to his hotel room.

Pete was still grinning like the joker as they exited the room.

 _“I think I should tell people”_ he said suddenly, as they were waiting for the elevator-their road manager having checked them in and given them their keys.

 _“Tell who, what?”_ Patrick asked, though Joe was pretty sure they all knew _what_ if not _who._

 _“I don’t know, our fans?”_ Pete tried _“About what happened last year. Last February”_

 _“Where is_ that _coming from?”_ Joe couldn’t help voicing the question. Even now, Pete couldn’t refer to what had happened except by use of the phrase _“last February”_ and he certainly avoided talking about it wherever possible.

 _“Well, I mean, obviously it’s coming from that guy throwing around that phrase”_ Pete was watching the light above the elevator door. He stepped forward as the door opened, and they all followed him in.

 _“I mean, obviously he was using it for emphasis or whatever”_ Pete leaned back against the handrail _“Or he probably didn’t even notice what he was saying because that’s kind of just a casual phrase”_

Joe was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he had probably used the phrase himself-and with reckless disregard. 

Pete’s gaze, moved rapidly from somewhere over Joe’s shoulder to focus on his face. Based on what Joe could see over Pete’s shoulder, he was pretty sure it wasn’t coincidental.

 _“And like it’s not like most people would even care”_ Pete shrugged, smoothing a hand over his hair _“About him saying that, or about what happened to-what I did”_

_But?_

_  
“But, I mean we’ve all met fans who tell us that the music has saved their lives right? They might want to know. They might want to hear me say it saved mine too”_

Joe was going to make sure he never used _that_ phrase again.

 _“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just post something on LiveJournal. Maybe I’ll do nothing. I’ll see”_ Pete made a face as if to say _who knows,_ though if Joe knew Pete at all, he knew that Pete had at least 3 alternative plans for how he could do it, _if_ he did it.

 _“Whatever you want to do”_ Patrick said after a moment, and Andy hummed in assent.

The elevator door opened.

 _“Who’s with who today?”_ Joe could see, thanks to the full-length mirrors, that Andy was pulling a key-card out of his pocket.

 _“I’m with Patrick!”_ Pete said brightly, as they piled out into the corridor _“We have to have a top-secret, really serious conversation-or so I’m told”_

 _“Jesus Christ Pete that is absolutely not what I said”_ Patrick rolled his eyes but he was fighting to keep a smile off his face, and Pete was smiling hard enough for the two of them.

_“Top-secret, you hear me?”_

Pete winked at Joe and Andy before he set off down the corridor. It was likely that he’d be left waiting outside his room, as Joe was pretty sure that Patrick had both his own and Pete’s room-keys.

 _“Top-secret?”_ Joe smirked and Patrick scowled, though good-naturedly.

_“Better than telling him you were worried we needed a “normal” conversation. That would probably scare the shit out of him-and me”_

_“Yeah, yeah, fuck you”_ Joe said lazily and Patrick laughed, before following Pete down the corridor.

 _“Maybe you’re the one in need of some “normal” conversation”_ Andy said as they headed towards their own room and Joe shoved his shoulder.

_“Not you too! I thought I had someone on my side”_

Whatever the case, Joe was just glad that they were going to have  _some_ kind of conversation.

_They need it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Not a lot happened in this one I know, sorry it moved kind of slow)


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick wrangles a truth out of Joe and provides some of his own.

Part of Joe had never been able to blame the fans for the speculation that surrounded Pete and Patrick’s relationship. Hell, he’d wondered about it, before he’d learned that they were, in fact, together. The fact that it had taken him so long, after they had broken things off, to realise that they had, in fact, done just that, was testament to the fact that, whatever anybody said, their relationship transcended one of just friendship.

It was with this in mind that Joe found himself wondering if “top secret conversation” was _Pete-and-Patrick_ code for sex.

When he woke up the next morning he wasn’t surprised to see that Andy was gone-he was probably availing of the hotel gym. He _was_ surprised, however, by the knocking on his door-he usually wasn’t the one who needed an actual wake-up call.

All Joe could see, through the peephole of the door, was Pete’s face-he was doing that weird thing with his teeth, Joe couldn’t remember what he called it. He was pretty sure Pete was standing on tip-toe in order to reach that height.

 _“Morning Joe!”_ Pete practically fell through the door when Joe opened it. His voice was obnoxiously loud-Joe was glad he wasn’t tired enough to actually be aggravated by it.

 _“Hi, yourself”_ Joe raised an eyebrow at Patrick, now revealed to have been standing at a respectable distance from the door. Patrick rolled his eyes, but he was smiling in reluctant fondness, shaking his head in apology for Pete.

_“It’s early, I know. Sorry about that”_

_“Is it?”_ Joe hadn’t even checked the time-he’d just assumed he’d overslept.

 _“This is usually what I’d call late”_ Pete was the only one standing fully in Joe’s room now, Joe himself standing in the doorway and Patrick in the hallway. He flopped backwards onto Andy’s, made, bed _“This room isn’t as nice as ours”._

 _“Umm”_ Joe moved back into his room to reach for his phone, leaving the door open for Patrick _“So is there a reason you guys are here at…”_

_Six fucking thirty._

_“Breakfast, I assume”_ Pete was drumming his hands on his stomach, moving his head in time with the rhythm _“That’s why you were up, right Patrick?”_

_“Well, I was up anyway”_

_“Imagine thinking I wouldn’t want breakfast”_ Pete twisted on the bed so that they could both see his _woe-is-me_ expression, _“Imagine thinking I wouldn’t want breakfast with our wonderful guitarist”_

_“I didn’t want to wake you! You were actually sleeping”_

_“Too bad I have ninja-senses and sensed you leaving”_ Pete sprung upright on the bed, seemingly to emphasis his point, before crossing his legs beneath him _“So hurry up and get dressed fucker, I’ve already delayed Patrick ten minutes”_

_“More like five-I’ve never seen anyone get dressed that quickly-you tripped running to the bathroom”_

_“For god’s sake-do they even serve breakfast this early?”_

* * *

 

 

Seven am was a strangely busy time for hotel breakfasts. It was mostly business-people, rather than the tourists that they usually encountered at about nine or ten am. That said, it was probably quieter than usual-a muted hum of conversation, mostly people talking on cell-phones.

Pete was definitely the loudest person in the room, until he decided to try wave at a baby that was seated, in a high-chair, at a nearby table. Then the crying baby became the loudest person in the hotel.

 _“Oh my god”_ Pete hissed, screening his face with one hand and ducking his head _“Did you see that?”_

Pete was biting his lip as if he was trying not to laugh, though he also looked slightly mortified. Joe was just glad Pete wasn’t wearing any makeup-that would probably have pushed the baby into screaming territory.

 _“I’m going to run out-reply to an email or something”_ Pete was trying to slide out of his chair without moving it, as if to prevent making any more unnecessary noise _“Hopefully that’ll make the baby chill out a bit”_

 _“Kay”_ Patrick drummed his fingers on the table.

_“I’ll be back though! Or if you guys finish first, text me. I’ll meet back up with you”_

_“Sure”_ Patrick waved and Pete beamed, before walking carefully out of the room, throwing a cautious look over his shoulder, at the offended baby, as he did so.

_Maybe the parents who are afraid of rock music aren’t totally off-the-wall._

Patrick waited until Pete was totally out of the room before he looked at Joe.

_“Sorry again it’s so early”_

_“It’s cool”_ Joe took a sip of his coffee-it had all been fine once he’d gotten coffee.

_“I wasn’t really trying to drag you down for breakfast at this time”_

_“No?”_ Joe noted, with relief, that the baby had stopped crying already.

_“No, I just wanted to talk to you. Alone. Pete woke up before I got out the door”_

_“Well that’s not like him at all”_ Joe said sarcastically and Patrick snorted.

_“Yeah, well, if I’d realised he was going to wake up I wouldn’t have gotten up so early. I don’t remember the last time I ate breakfast at this hour”_

_“Same”_ Joe probably could, if he tried to, but he wasn’t bothered to make the effort.

_“And he can always use the extra sleep”_

_“True”_ at this stage that statement was true for all of them, but, as always, it applied more so to Pete than the rest of them.

_“I just wanted to say sorry about the other night”_

_“Which show?”_ Joe was thinking about getting another bowl of cereal.

_“I meant about what happened with Pete”_

Joe could almost hear the tires screeching in his head, as his brain came to standstill.

_“What?”_

_“He told me”_

Joe wondered if he should have seen it coming.

_“Yo, listen Patrick, I wasn’t trying to-I definitely wasn’t…just so you know. I mean I know how it is with you guys, and I would never-even if I wanted to!”_

Joe was floundering and he knew it.

_“And I didn’t want to. To be clear. He didn’t either, though I suppose he told you that too. He was just drunk and lonely-probably horny. But mostly just sad, I mean, god, he just seemed so fucking sad”_

Patrick was nodding solemnly, his lips pressed firmly together, hands clasped in front of him.

_“But yeah, I mean nothing happened-if you’re worried. I mean, the kiss wasn’t even anything, I-“_

Joe knew he was flushing-he wasn’t sure why he was embarrassed, given that Pete obviously wasn’t. He opened his mouth to continue, then he noticed the expression on Patrick’s face.

 _“The kiss”_ Patrick was grinning, he quickly brought a hand up to his mouth to cover it, _“I didn’t expect there to have been a kiss”_

_“What-how did Pete tell this story and leave that out?”_

_“He didn’t”_

_“What?”_

_“He didn’t tell the story”_ Patrick looked slightly remorseful now, he ran a hand over the back of his neck absently _“Sorry, that wasn’t fair at all to do. But he didn’t tell me anything”_

_Son of a-_

_“What the-!”_ Joe remembered the presence of the baby in time to catch his exclamation _“What just happened!”_

_“It’s okay, it’s my fault entirely”_

_“I know it’s your fault, but you made me-that wasn’t my secret to share!”_

_“I know”_

_“How did you even know to ask?”_ Joe hissed-he wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to censor himself _“I can’t believe-”_

 _“I had a feeling”_ Patrick cut him off, his tone remorseful _“When you said that Pete missed me. I mean, come on, what was I meant to think”_

_“I didn’t even mean he missed you in a sexual way, god. I literally meant he needed you, whatever you two are”_

_“Yeah, I know, so I wasn’t sure but then just-yesterday, something Pete said, it made me wonder”_

_What the fuck did he say?_

Joe was pretty sure it wasn’t his place to ask. However, that assumption was based on his own hunch that Pete and Patrick had fucked last night.

 _“It doesn’t really matter what he said”_ Patrick said quickly before Joe could decide whether to ask or not _“It’ll probably end up in a song of some sort eventually-hey, you’ve made it into Pete Wentz’s black book!”_

 _“Oh my god don’t even-”_ Joe groaned.

_“That’s prestigious”_

_“Is it really?”_ Joe wasn’t even sure which _“black book”_ they were talking about, though, he supposed, the two were probably inextricably linked.

 _“More so than you’d think"_ Joe wasn't going to dispute Patrick's claim.

 _“But anyway”_ Patrick continued _“I’m sorry that it happened-Pete is definitely sorry about it, he’d never want to make you uncomfortable like that”_

_“Yeah, I know. I told him it was okay-well, that I understood he wasn’t feeling okay”_

_“Yeah”_ Patrick paused, frowning slightly. Then the corner of his mouth was curling up in a smile.

_“I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone the story of our first kiss”_

_“Oh come on”_ Joe scoffed, he couldn’t help it _“We’ve been watching Pete kiss you for years, even before we knew”_

 _“The first real kiss, fucker”_ Patrick was rolling his eyes _“I mean there is a difference between platonic and romantic kissing, and between what he still does on stage and what we were”_

 _“Okay, okay, sorry”_ Joe held his hands up in surrender _“Go on, tell me so-or why haven’t you told anyone”_

 _“Well, for one thing, because we’d always been keeping it somewhat of a secret”_ Patrick tugged on the end of his sleeve _“So, obviously, we couldn’t just produce that story out of nowhere”_

 _“Right”_ Joe wondered how long they had kept it a secret for-he still had no real idea.

_“Then there’s the fact-Pete always gets really flustered whenever he thinks about it”_

_“Why, did he mess it up or something?”_

_“No”_ Patrick said pointedly, his hand moving from his sleeve to straighten a spoon _“I kissed him”_

Joe wasn’t sure why, but he hadn’t expected that.

 _“Oh?”_ he said carefully, but Patrick caught his surprise, _of course he did, the insightful motherfucker_ , and laughed.

_“You thought it’d be the other way around”_

_“Yeah well…”_ Patrick hadn’t even posed it as a question, he knew that Joe was surprised _“I don’t know why, I guess just cause he’s always been so all over you”_

  
_“True”_

  
_“And he was older”_

_“He still is”_

_“Yeah, but-”_ Joe was flustered himself now, _“It probably would have mattered more back when-whenever you guys started…I don’t even know”_

 _“Well”_ Patrick decided to relieve Joe at last from his rambling _“That was the whole thing. The reason Pete doesn’t like thinking about it. He always felt like he was too old for me”_

_Probably true._

_“Which was true, certainly for a while”_ Patrick said hurriedly _“And so he wouldn’t go near me-I had such a fucking crush on him it was ridiculous, and I could just tell he was absolutely terrified of doing something wrong”_

_Good._

_“So then it was a couple years after we first met”_ Patrick was smiling again, lost in the memory _“We’d just played this amazing show, it went so well, and Pete was so happy, but not the wrong side of happy, you know”_

_“Of course”_

_“And we were just laughing like maniacs, cause we were so happy-we were realising that we might actually get signed to a proper label-we hadn’t signed to Ramen yet”_

_That’s a long time ago._

_“And I don’t know where the hell the rest of you disappeared to, but it was as if you were in on the whole thing, cause Pete and I were suddenly alone-just walking around whatever town it was, and I made us stop, and I asked him if I could kiss him”_

_Pete and I attacked the laws of-_

_“Which totally wasn’t romantic for a first kiss”_ Patrick laughed, covering his face with his hands _“Well maybe it could be, I don’t know. But I just knew I couldn’t just kiss him out of nowhere, cause he’d freak out.”_

_It’s kind of romantic._

_“And he was freaked out anyway”_ Patrick shook his head in disbelief _“He did that laugh he does in interviews, and said ‘I can’t have too many of my dreams coming true at once, Trick, what’ll I have to live for?’”_

_That’s a bit too close to the bone._

_“Like it was a joke. Which, I mean, if it had been the other way around, I probably would have said the exact same thing. I would have been so afraid of letting myself hope it was true._

_“So then”_ Patrick continued _“I go ‘just kiss me already, motherfucker’ and he was like-”_

Patrick raised his hands defensively, his eyes wide, in imitation of Pete.

_“He goes ‘If anyone’s going to kiss anyone, it’s gotta be you who kisses me’ and like, I was well over 18 at this stage, it wasn’t even about that anymore”_

Joe supposed it would always be something at the back of Pete’ mind, however much time passed.

_“So I grab his shirt and go ‘Well stop moving for a second then and let me kiss you’ and that’s when he realised I was serious and he completely freezes. And then he smiled so wide and goes ‘Okay, I’ll stop’ and I go ‘Thanks’, or something equally as stupid, cause I’m so nervous I can barely breathe, and I’m taking a second, literally one second, to compose myself and the fucker goes ‘I don’t know about you, but I feel like we’ve done enough waiting for this, could you hurry the fuck up and kiss me’"._

_And?_

_"And so I kissed him”_

It seemed like a lifetime since Pete and Patrick had told them the truth, but, evidently, they'd lived several such lifetimes themselves in and before that time.

 _“And I mean”_ Patrick shook his head _“It sounds so dumb, but god, I’d never had a first kiss like that. I’d never felt anything like that.”_

Joe could only imagine how this story would sound coming from Pete’s mouth.

_“I’ve never had someone like him. I mean-I feel like I only found myself when I met him. Like I was a completely different person-or we’ve become a whole other person”_

Patrick broke off for a second.

_“I don’t know. I just know that that was one of the best moments of my life, and that no matter what happens, I’m always going to be there for Pete. So you don’t have to worry about things being different now. We’ve always been different, but we’ll always make it work. We always work”._

It was only when Patrick stopped talking that Joe realised how intently he’d been listening-he was leaning forward in his seat, his hand clutching the tablecloth.

 _“Wow”_ it was the only word coming to Joe’s mind, _“That was-”_

Joe trailed off and Patrick laughed-Joe couldn’t help but laugh himself.

_“That was something”_

_“Yeah, yeah”_ Patrick’s tone was defensive. He moved back in his seat.

_“So, you have to tell me all about it”_

_“All about what?”_

_“Your and Pete’s first kiss”_ Patrick said innocently and Joe choked.

_“No, I really do not”_

_“But you really should”_

_“Let’s get one thing straight”_ Joe sat up in his chair, holding up one finger _“That wasn’t our ‘first’ kiss. The word ‘first’ implies that there will be a second. That was our kiss-or actually it was just_ a kiss, _the word ‘our’ is way too intimate”_

_“Was it really bad?”_

_“It doesn’t even-”_

_“Did he use tongue?”_

_“Patrick!”_

_“Did you?”_ Patrick raised an eyebrow and Joe spluttered.

_“I’ll use my tongue to excavate your asshole if you don’t shut up”_

_“That sounds fun, can I get in on it?”_ Joe jumped out of his skin as Pete appeared over Patrick’s shoulder, a grin on his face.

 _“Pete! You’re back”_ Joe’s heart was about to fly out of his chest, it was pumping so hard.

 _“Couldn’t bear to be away”_ Pete said sarcastically, sliding back into his seat. He smiled warmly at both of them, before picking up a blueberry from the fruit salad he’d abandoned, and popping it in his mouth.

_“Remind me again why we had to get up at the ass-crack of dawn?”_

_“We didn’t have to, I wanted to and you joined me”_

_“The things I do for you”_ Pete rolled his eyes and Patrick snorted.

 _The things I do for love,_ the unsaid words that hung over the table. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> putting a close to 2006, and leading onto 2007

Pete’s birthday, June 5th, was smack-bang in the middle of the year. According to him, it was the best time for a birthday-it was the halfway mark to Christmas which, aside from making it almost like a holiday in itself, meant that he could never get two presents lumped in one. Joe was pretty sure that the only people who suffered from such presents were people born in December or January, but it didn’t matter. Pete loved birthdays, as a general rule, but he especially loved his own.

For the rest of them, the real importance of Pete’s birthday being in June, was that he seemed to be 27 for about three years.

This probably wouldn’t have been the case if it hadn’t been for the years that had been in it. Pete had always been the “ _rock-star_ ”, that much was evident. He’d also always been the _rockiest_ of them-2005 had made that abundantly clear, though they’d all known already. However 2006 was the start of the real circus, one in which Pete was both the ringleader and the caged animal-the instigator and victim.

The nudes leak had shaken Pete. But it had also hardened him-something that proved a blessing, when he became tabloid fodder. It had been such a major invasion of his privacy, and so embarrassing to him, that pretty much everything else that was said about him was trivial. He was free as a bird, in that the worst had happened, there was nowhere else to fall.

That was only true to say of his public image, however.

When Pete decided to speak out about his mental illness it was on his own terms. In typical Pete fashion, he knew exactly what to do to make sure that people paid attention.

 _“I tried to kill myself”_ was the heading that ran on whatever article was initially published-even though they had all learned, by that stage _not_ to call it a suicide attempt.

Not that they talked about it anymore.

But the point was that Pete made a show-stopping statement, in order to generate an attention-grabbing headline, which he could use as a vehicle to do what he really wanted to do, which was help their fans.

Pete was candid about the whole thing. Once he made the decision to give that part of his life away, he gave it fully. Joe supposed that in some bizarre kind of way it was probably therapeutic-didn’t they always say that talking about these kind of things made them easier to deal with?

Joe wasn’t sure if he’d realised it at the time, but Pete kind of broke new ground by telling the world he had bi-polar disorder. It just _wasn’t_ something that people _talked_ about. Throw in his struggles with depression and anxiety and suddenly people were less comfortable with making jokes about his nudes.

_He always seems to know exactly what to do._

From that point on, it was seldom that a magazine would run an article without making mention of it. Pete got involved in organisations aiming to raise awareness for mental illness and suicide-which, Joe supposed, had probably been his goal from the outset.

Joe couldn’t put into words how proud he was of him.

He had seen Pete at his lowest. He had seen Pete scared to death-they’d all seen Pete hours after he’d chased death. He knew there were a lot of days where Pete didn’t like to look at himself, or talk about himself-days where he wanted to escape his head so badly that he’d spend hours on the phone to his therapist. For Pete to let people have even a little bit of that part of him, something that was so personal, for the “off-chance” (which they all knew was a real chance) that he could help other people, was so brave and selfless-and so opposite to what was still the pervasive presumption of who Pete Wentz was, that Joe felt like throwing punches whenever Pete was heckled at events, or shows.

But, none-the-less, Pete going public with his battles made them real in a very different way. He was a public liability now-joining the ranks of others who had _tried to go before him-_ and his name would always be associated with those who _had_ gone before him.

He turned 27 the year he became associated with the 27 club.

 

* * *

 

 

His 27th birthday itself came in the middle of their “break”. Having toured until April, they were officially putting _Cork Tree_ to rest. They’d been recording the new album since July, and while they weren’t sure how long it would take to finish, Patrick was determined to take his time, so it was likely that it was going to be a couple of months.

Something had changed in the past year. While a lot of the time it felt like they didn’t know what they were doing, in other ways, they actually _knew_ what they were doing. Patrick was co-producing their next album. They were _allowed_ to take the time to make the album perfect. They could afford it too, even more shockingly. They weren’t the virtually unknown kids they’d been when they’d recorded their first two albums, unsure if anything was going to come from the music they were making.

_We made it._

_“You made it!”_ -Joe felt Pete before he heard him. It was so loud in the club that Pete had resorted to slinging an arm around Joe’s neck, half-strangling him in the process of bringing him down to his height, so that he could talk in his ear.

 _“Course I did”_ Joe was pretty sure he’d arrived at the venue _before_ Pete. In any case, Joe had been there for an hour, and this was the first he’d seen of Pete.

_“This is kind of awesome-Happy Birthday, obviously”_

_“I know right?”_ Pete couldn’t really know, given that he’d just arrived but, Joe supposed, he’d probably been involved enough in the planning to be assured of the truth of Joe’s statement.

_“You’re getting old”_

_“Yeah?”_ Pete’s eyes flashed as he raised an eyebrow _“Tell me, did they ask you for ID at the door Mr. Twenty-One Year old?”_

_“Nah, I told them I was with the geriatric whose party it was”_

_“Well there’s 50 bucks I’ll never get back”_ Pete said with just the right mix of sarcasm and good-natured acceptance that Joe was sure he wasn’t kidding _“Wait-there’s still the hope of Patrick!”_

_“There is about a 95% chance that if Patrick was asked for ID, he’d know you were behind it and would go home just to spite you”_

_“You don’t think that happened, do you?”_

_“No, Patrick’s been here for a while”_ Joe didn’t know where Patrick was, but he’d seen him a little while after he’d first arrived.

_“He with anybody?”_

_Yes._

_“I’m not sure-I think so, maybe”_ Joe shrugged-he wondered if it looked as exaggerated as it felt. He was pretty sure Pete saw through what he was trying to do, but it was too late to take it back.

 _“Okay”_ Pete shrugged back at him, before he craned his neck to look over his shoulder.

_“I better go talk to some people that I don’t see literally every day”_

_“Hostess with the mostess”_

_“You know it, baby”_ Pete winked obnoxiously at him, and then he was gone.

 

There was a difference between saying you weren’t bothered by an ex being with other people, and actually not being bothered by it. Pete, Joe knew, had always been a possessive, jealous motherfucker. They’d seen it in several of his relationships-it had taken Pete years, and copious amounts of alcohol to tell them about the time he was “so unbelievably cruel” to Morgan-accusing her of cheating on him before smashing her cell-phone.

That had been during the worst year.

Joe had no doubt that Pete and Patrick wanted the best for each other. There was no question of it. He was also sure, therefore, that they were both actively encouraging the other to date other people, or even just to fuck other people.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult at times.

The next time Joe saw Pete that night, he was off his face.

It was becoming something of a routine.

 

* * *

 

 

The album that had yet to be named was unique in that it hadn’t been born of grief, conflict and violence the way the last two albums had been. Pete and Patrick hadn’t fought over this album the way they had the last few. Creatively-if nothing else, they seemed to be more in tune with one another than ever before.

The problem was that this album really was _their_ baby.

Joe had been startled, to say the least, when he realised that Patrick had composed the entire album. He knew, of course, that Patrick had been working on it-he was always writing in his spare time. But he had _presumed_ that, at some stage, they were all going to come together creatively, change things around, come up with new ideas, or improve old ones.

That hadn’t happened.

Part of Joe hated himself for wanting more. He _knew_ that he wasn’t the composer Patrick was, and that, besides from that, it had been clear for years that Patrick had the most input when it came to the music.

_But we are a fucking band._

It was cruel to vilify Pete for being the face of their band. He hadn’t asked for it and-in fact-from the very start, with the TTTYG cover, he had tried to cement the idea that Fall Out Boy was a four-man band.

But vilifying Patrick was selfish.

Even thinking the phrase “ _The Pete and Patrick Show_ ” made Joe feel like the most self-centred, up-himself fucker in the room. Why _should_ he necessarily be entitled to the same level of attention or input as either of them. There was no question of “ _should_ ”, as, after all, everything that they all, respectively, had was blessing enough in itself already. He didn’t _deserve_ anything.

But an awful part of him wanted it.

The rational part of Joe knew that if he had spoken up, if he had _told_ Patrick explicitly that he wanted to be more involved creatively, it was highly probable that Patrick _would_ have involved him more.

_Next time._

The fact that the album was shaping up to be a masterpiece was both a high and a kick in the teeth.

At the end of the day, Joe was a guitar player. He was stoked to be playing these amazing songs, on _their_ amazing album. As long as he had a guitar in his hand, and shows to play, he was pretty sure he could handle the rest of the baggage that came with the gig.

If a day ever came when that was taken away from him, Joe was pretty sure it would be his last.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Pete had turned to Joe, his eyes wide and a thousand miles away, back in January of 2006, at the over-crowded after-party that had accompanied their disastrous _“Top of the Pops”_ performance, neither of them knew that what he was about to say was the start of something special.

_“I just saw the most beautiful girl in the whole world”_

The way Pete told the story, years later, made it a fairy-tale. Or maybe it really was one-except in their case, it was the beautiful princess who saved the handsome, but troubled, prince, from the monsters he saw, both in the world around him, and in himself.

Pete had introduced himself to Ashlee that night. He’d been a bag of excited nerves-it was probably adrenaline from the, as they had then been, upcoming Grammys that had spurred him on. His departing _“fuck, here goes”-_ in response to Joe’s wishing of good luck, made clear that he wasn’t expecting anything. They might have been on the rise, but they all knew that Ashlee was out of Pete’s league-in terms of fame if nothing else.

The next day Pete gushed about how funny she’d been, how gorgeous she was, how he was sure he'd made a complete fool of himself- but he didn’t care because at least he could say he’d talked to _Ashlee Simpson_.

It took _months_ for anything to start between them. But once it did, it _took off._

Pete had had a promiscuous year, by his own standards, between mid-2005 and 2006. Pete wasn’t actually the type to sleep around, but over the course of that year he’d been linked to various _actual_ celebrities (the fact that Pete had gotten with Michelle Trachtenberg still blew Joe’s mind). In typical Pete fashion, he had also, briefly, rekindled relationships with old flames. Joe didn’t _think_ that he was one prone to speculation, but he was pretty sure that Ryan Ross had joined the esteemed ranks of Pete’s (former?) lovers-though Joe had also been sure at one point, having seen them mirrored in his own bandmates, that Ryan and Brendon had been together.

 _There is such a thing as paying_ too _close attention._

And through it all ran the undercurrent line that Pete just couldn’t shake.

_patrick.patrick.patrick._

Love was Pete’s fuel. He could spin gold, not from straw, but from the crumbling ashes of relationships that had crashed and burned. Rage and bitterness had fuelled _Take This To Your Grave_ most notably of all their past albums-that had been love turned to pitch and left to rot.

But when Pete was hopeful about love, his hope bred platinum.

 _Infinity on High_ went platinum one month after it was released.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Ain't a Scene, it's 2007.

For the record-none of them thought it was a good idea initially.

But that had never been enough to deter Pete before.

_“And then we’re at a show and it’s 2003 and we’re practically playing in the crowd and that’s how it ends”_

In theory, Joe loved the premise of the video. It was clever and funny and it was _so Pete,_ both to have formulated such a self-referential, self-depreciating story-board _and,_ for him to have written an inflated, dramatized version of his, or rather _their_ history.

But that was in theory. The reality was a little different.

_“We’re not having you burst out of a coffin at your own funeral”_

_“Why not?”_ Pete’s tone was levelled-he knew he had the upper hand. He’d already gotten creative approval for the idea from everyone _except_ them. Meaning that if anyone was going to come out looking like an asshole, from this situation, it was going to be whoever said no the loudest.

That person was usually Patrick.

Patrick laughed, short and sharp, before fixing Pete with an incredulous stare.

_“Why not? I don’t know, it’s a bit irreverent maybe?”_

_“To have a funeral in a music video? Helena nearly stole our VMA last year”_

_“You know I don’t mean-you don’t think this is even a_ little bit _different to that?”_ Patrick’s voice was laced with sarcasm, all the more so as Pete rolled his eyes _“No really, do you not see-”_

 _“Irreverent”_ Pete interjected, making air-quotes with his fingers, his brow furrowed, _“Irreverent to who?”_

 _“Well, for-to you!”_ Patrick said exasperatedly _“If nothing else, it’s just drawing more attention to all that stuff, which I’m pretty sure you don’t actually want, even if you can’t see it right now”  
“I don’t have a problem with this!” _ Pete was grinning now, his hands held open in invitation _“I wrote the video, what am I saying, obviously I don’t have a problem with it. Joe, Andy, come on-”_

 _“I mean-”_ Joe paused for a second, wondering if it would be better to stay completely neutral, _“I’d say it’ll be more tongue-in-cheek than “irreverent” per se, and that could be great if it’s done well enough”_

 _“Tongue-in-cheek”_ Pete pointed at Joe, nodding his head appreciatively _“That’s exactly what it’s meant to be”_

 _“There’s tongue-in-cheek, and then there’s going too far”_ Patrick returned _“I mean, it’s just inviting the media to discuss everything all over again”_

 _“If anything, I think it’s not going far enough”_ Pete said jovially, pulling his sidekick out of his pocket _“I mean when I die in the video it’s not even on purpose! It’s totally accidental”_

_“Jesus, Pete”_

_“Well-I mean, come on”_ Pete rolled his eyes, before casting them down at his cell-phone screen _“At least we’re keeping it PG”_

 _“I mean to be honest”_ Andy spoke, when Pete fell silent _“The whole thing sounds so exaggerated that no-body's even gonna bother trying to look for any hidden meanings. Probably the only thing they’ll actually think, after the video is that our lives way more interesting than they actually are”_

 _“Perfect”_ Pete snapped his sidekick closed, and his head up, before making a finger-gun at Andy _“This is why you get a front-row seat at my funeral-and get to sing at it!”_

 _“Thank you”_ Andy grinned. Patrick made a noise that was close to a scoff.

 _“Don’t worry Patrick, obviously you’re slated to perform at it too”_ Pete eyed Patrick out of the corner of his eye, before extricating himself, from where he was sprawled on a couch, to sit, cross-legged, next to him on his couch. Pete drummed his fingers against Patrick’s knees _“First thing I ever thought, when I heard you sing, was ‘wow, this is the kind of voice you want singing at your funeral. What with it being like the voice of an angel and all’”_

 _“Yes, that’s absolutely what you thought”_ Patrick rolled his eyes and Pete’s smile widened _“See, I thought it was more that you heard money rolling”_

 _“That too”_ Pete continued tapping the beat, and Patrick groaned, bringing a hand to his face. Pete stalled his fingers for just a second-Joe knew the break to the rhythm would annoy Patrick more than the drumming itself, and sure enough, Patrick looked up, as Pete continued.

_“I have that written down though. Somewhere”_

A couple of beats of silence passed. Knowing Pete, he probably wasn’t joking. Joe could only see Patrick’s face-and the back of Pete’s head, but he was sure that they were having one of their silent conversations. At any rate, Patrick’s gaze was fixated on Pete’s face.

_“As the entertainment or for the service?”_

_“Dude!”_ Pete brought a hand to his chest, his mouth hanging open in exaggerated shock. He wheeled around to look at Joe, seemingly to further convey this. _“Do you even have to ask-as if you’d be demoted to the status of ‘wedding singer’-or funeral singer as it were. The service, obviously”_

Patrick seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek. Joe was sure he was trying to keep a straight face.

_“Well, good luck affording me these days. That would have been easy, back in the day but now…”_

Patrick rubbed two fingers against his thumb and Pete clicked his tongue, shoving one of Patrick’s shoulders, before throwing his arms around them.

_“I’ll shell out-believe me, whatever it takes”_

_“Yeah well, we’ll see”_ Patrick muttered, shaking his head as Pete pressed his head against his neck _“Or we won’t, I guess”_

 _“Thanks”_ Pete pecked Patrick’s cheek before moving back to his own side of the couch, leaving his feet in Patrick’s lap. Patrick sighed, before casting an eye, first to Andy, then to Joe.

_Well?_

_  
“Umm”_ Joe cleared his throat, and both Patrick and Andy looked at him, while Pete cocked his head in his direction _“Okay, so are not going to mention the other thing at all, or...?”_

 _“Joe…we were so close”_ Pete said statically, as Patrick made a noise that said _thanks for reminding me._

 _“Well I mean, come on. Whatever about the second half, but, how the fuck did you get approval for the photoshoot bit?”_ to the best of Joe’s knowledge, their management had been desperate for _that_  whole thing to blow over at the time.

 _“Listen”_ Pete held up a hand, as if to stop Patrick from cutting across him _“It’s gonna be funny”_

 _“It wasn’t funny at the time”_ Andy said pointedly and Joe couldn’t help but remember how cut up Pete had been by the whole thing, to the extent that he’d actually asked Joe to fuck hi-

_Don’t even go there._

_“Yeah, but it’s funny now”_ Pete said, as if it was obvious _“and the fans will love it”_

 _  
“It’s going to reinforce the idea that you leaked them”_ Patrick said bluntly. Joe was glad he’d saved him from having to say it himself. _“You’re capitalising on it-people will wonder what else you did for money, or attention”_

 _“Fuck it, they already think that”_ Pete said flippantly, dismissing the statement with his hand _“Everyone already thinks I’m a fame and money whore-fuck, we’re saying that in the other song-”_

 _“I know but just-”_ Patrick broke off. He paused for a moment, then threw his hands up in defeat, _“Fine, whatever. You’ve been right about all our music videos so far-who am I to question you now”_

 _“Thank you”_ Pete said primly, wriggling slightly on the couch in order to get more comfortable. He settled briefly, and then he was turning his head, to look at Joe over his shoulder.

_“Dude-wait till you see what you’re gonna be wearing on the coffin”_

* * *

 

 

So they made a video, taking the piss out of themselves. The scene in the studio was a shout-out to the time Patrick had gotten writer’s block trying to write for Jay-Z. The party in the hotel room was a nod to what people assumed was the rock-star lifestyle. In reality, they rarely passed up the opportunity to actually sleep, when hotel rooms were available. Even Pete’s makeup in that scene was a joke-overdone, and over smudged, in reference to the media’s overt focus on it, and on the _emo_ label, that was, increasingly, used as a weapon against them. Patrick might have been afraid that Pete would be presented as narcissist (and maybe he was) but Joe couldn’t help but think that it took the very opposite of narcissism for Pete to berate himself the way he did in that video.

Pete’s fall to his death was as dramatic as his overdose would have been. His funeral was practically a party.

_The King is Dead._

Pete waking up in the coffin was in reference to Pete’s problems with sleeping. While anyone who knew him at all knew that he was plagued with insomnia and nightmares, Joe couldn’t help but feel that it made the video personal in a way it wouldn’t have been otherwise.

_He always gives too much of himself._

Joe didn’t want to ask, because- _hey_ , overthinking was Pete’s alley, not his, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Pete was referencing more than he was letting on.

_The fact that he didn’t do it._

_Or that he couldn’t do it?_

_That he changed his mind just in time._

_That, try though they might, the media hadn’t killed him yet._

The irony of the spooning scene was lost on none of them. It was for the best. The fans speculated enough already. Moreover, Joe finally had the answer to a question he’d asked, what felt like _years_ ago now, though, in reality, it had only been about two, as to Patrick’s reaction upon finding _him_ curled up against him in the middle of the night.

Pete could say what he wanted, but Joe almost wished they hadn’t included the recreation of the nudes leak. It _was_ funny, for the sheer level of detail involved: Pete was wearing the same hoodie he had been in the photos, and the props team even replicated his mom’s bathroom. But Pete played discomfort at being hyper-sexualised too well, because it was something he knew _far too well_ by this stage.

_It’s only gotten worse._

The song debuting at number two on _Billboard_ made it all worth it _._

* * *

 

 

Pete and Ashlee went public at some stage in 2007. Inevitably, every interview they did, from that point forward, saw Pete having to field a barrage of questions about her. It would have been awful if it weren’t for the fact that Pete and Ashlee were so happy together.

They all loved Ashlee. It wasn’t like it had been before with some of their other girlfriends-Joe had never liked Anna, even before she’d given them all a reason to hate her for what she did to Patrick. Similarly, Joe was pretty sure Patrick hadn’t liked Morgan, mostly because she and Pete had always been so toxic together-they were too similar; both of them quick to anger, and prone to depressive episodes. They brought out the worst in each other, all for the sake of a few brief moments of harmony, during which, Pete was as happy as Joe had ever seen him.

So Ashlee was a breath of fresh air.

She wasn’t what Joe had expected from a bone _fide_ celebrity. They’d met plenty of assholes in their time, hung up on their own status. Similarly, they’d met people more famous than they’d ever be, who were either too shallow, or too dull, to even have an actual conversation with.

Ashlee was neither of those things. The first time Joe met her he was stupidly nervous, mostly because _Pete_ was so nervous. Afraid that, either, they wouldn’t like her, or that _she_ wouldn’t like them, Pete had fussed and made excuses, delaying a meeting until they’d been seeing each other casually for a number of weeks.

He needn’t have worried so much.

_But he always worries so much._

So, all of a sudden, Pete had a dog, and a girlfriend, and a _functional relationship._ It was new territory, to say the least.

She came out on tour with them sometimes. It was almost necessary: they were hardly off the road that year at _all_.

Though he seemed happy in some ways-the relationship with Ashlee being the obvious example, it was clear that, in other ways, Pete was anything but. Going public with the relationship was a double-edged sword: Pete was a semi-regular feature in gossip magazines-and, this time, as _Ashlee Simpson’s boyfriend._

_I mean, she is a reality T.V star._

Pete was overmedicated for the whole of that year. There was no denying it. It was in his voice, and it was in his eyes-Joe couldn't believe that interviewers didn't call him on it. It was hard for them to watch as he struggled with trying to balance his medication, and his illness. Evidently, however, Pete found it easier to deal, both with the amplified attention he was receiving, and with his mental illnesses, on more, rather than less, medication.

_Buzz, buzz, buzz._

On top of everything, was drinking and other drugs. Nobody had been able to say no to Pete, for as long as Joe could remember-and that was before he'd had the money to do whatever he wanted.

They all lived in fear of a call saying he was dead.

It wasn’t even so much that he was a suicide risk. Pete was living recklessly, and dangerously, _like he didn’t care if he lived or died_ , which would have been troubling enough if it wasn’t also in addition to Pete’s history of suicidal ideation.

They didn’t tell Pete about the countdown clock until the next year. Maybe because they were afraid he’d see it as a challenge. It was almost a joke, except it _really wasn’t._

The day Pete turned 28, Joe woke up to a call; their manager, screaming _“We made it!”_ down the phone. They’d had a party of sorts, out in North Carolina, with all the bands they’d been touring with, though really it was just a cake-a far cry from the parties he’d had in previous years. They may not have told Pete about the countdown clock, but, what with being such a _self-aware bastard,_ he could easily have known. Or maybe he had one of his own. Whatever the case, a couple of weeks later Pete produced the lyrics for _27._

_And I want it so bad, I'd shoot the sunshine into my veins._

_I can't remember the good old days._

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a focus on Joe, as things start to move from 2007 into 2008

Joe didn’t know who he’d say his best friend was if he was asked.

The realisation came as a bit of a surprise to him-it wasn’t something he devoted a lot of thought to, but at the same time, he would have expected himself to have an answer to the question.

_Pete and Patrick have an answer to that question._

Back at the very start, Joe had been too in awe of, almost _infatuated by-_ the idea, at least, of Pete, that it wouldn’t be fair to say that he was his best friend. Pete had taken slight advantage of this devotion-thinking back, Joe couldn’t believe the kind of shit he’d let Pete get away with. Once the band started getting serious however, the inequality in the relationship had been wiped away. Joe would definitely have called Pete one of his best, if not his _very best_ friend.

He and Patrick had done a lot of growing up together on the road-physically, mentally and emotionally. Pete and Andy used to jokingly refer to them as the _“band babies”_ and it was true. While it had been great having Pete and Andy as older mentors, there had been some things, back when they were still kids, that it would have been simply _too embarrassing_ to go to them about. They’d relied a lot on each other in order to cope with life on the road, which was so much newer to them, in a way it wasn’t to Pete and Andy, and then later, in dealing with the attention, the _fame,_ they’d received at such a young age. So Patrick too was one of his best friends-it went without saying.

He’d first _seen_ Andy around the same time he had Pete-playing with Racetraitor, before they’d disbanded. He didn’t properly get to know Andy until he recorded _Take This to Your Grave_ with them-he still couldn’t believe how lucky they’d gotten there. Andy was probably the least judgemental person Joe knew-you could come to him with anything, and he’d listen for as long as you needed him to, offering advice when he could. Joe had always admired Andy’s loyalty, determination and work ethic. His dedication to the vegan, straight-edge lifestyle that, by this stage, the rest of them had mostly left behind, was nothing short of astounding. There was also the fact that Pete and Patrick pairing up pushed him and Andy invariably closer-but it was, definitely, an honour to have Andy as one of his closest friends.

Pete and Patrick had clicked, like magic, as soon as they'd met. Joe had actually met Patrick first. The fans, from what he had seen, or rather what _Pete had shown him,_ online, seemed to perceive Patrick as being almost  _innocent._ This was reinforced by the press-Patrick now had a loathing for the word “cherubic”-it had been applied, to him, far too liberally by many journalists recently.

In reality, Joe had only met Patrick because Patrick had deigned to interrupt a conversation he’d been having with a friend, in order to tell him that whatever the fuck he’d been saying about some band wasn’t _actually correct,_ and then to correct him on it.

The point was that Joe had known Patrick as long as Pete had, but he’d never had anything like the kind of relationship that Pete had with him. _Obviously._ For one thing, he’d never been _interested_ in either of them. More importantly, however, was Pete and Patrick’s working relationship. It was this that set them apart from practically any other people he’d ever met, working in the music business.

It wasn’t often he saw them writing together. This was because, for one, often times _they didn’t even write together._ They didn’t need to. They could be exactly in tune with each other without even speaking-being physically together wasn’t a requirement. Moreover, watching them actually work together always felt like he was intruding on something deeply personal. Pete sometimes jokingly compared them to a therapist and a patient, one listening to the other pour out his soul-and it wasn’t too far off. In fact, Joe was _sure_ that Pete had told Patrick, either explicitly or implicitly, more than he’d ever tell any therapist, or any other person, for that matter. However even aside from this, the process was so intimate. Pete and Patrick would sing phrases back to each other, trying to land the exact pattern of syllables. Joe knew Pete wasn’t proud of his singing voice, and that Patrick didn’t like singing when he wasn’t actually working. Then there was Pete playing an acoustic guitar, rather than his bass, or both of them playing on a piano or keyboard-either side-by-side, or taking turns. It was all _far too much._

Joe knew all this. He _knew_ they had something special, he _knew_ it wasn’t something they manufactured, deliberately, to separate themselves, or to isolate him and Andy.

But sometimes it felt like that.

It was around this time that Joe noticed his OCD getting significantly worse. It was something that, though he’d had it for much of his life, had been levitated slightly, almost as an irresistible consequence of living on the road. Aside from being hugely busy, he probably would have gone insane, living the way they did back in the van days for example, if his OCD had been very severe.

Maybe it was the fact that they had big buses now. Maybe it was that he was conscious of the fact that he _wasn’t busy enough, he wasn’t writing enough._ Or maybe it was related to the enormous guilt he felt, resulting from the resentment of Pete and Patrick’s dynamic, or, more specifically of _Patrick,_ resentment that had been building slowly since _Cork Tree,_ and had now reached new heights _._

_You selfish bastard._

It was hoarding, and it was cleanliness. It was a constant need to ask people if they were okay, even if he’d just asked them. It didn’t make any sense, and he _knew that,_ but he just couldn’t help it _._ At least now they had enough space, what with them travelling with not just one but _two tour buses,_ for him to hide a lot of it from the guys. And the bus he shared with Pete these days actually had a shower.

It was there, and he was managing it. Well enough at least, Certainly better than he was managing the trouble with Patrick, and _writing_. 

Joe knew he was a good writer now. He’d write with his friends in other bands, just little bits, here and there, and he knew that what he was writing was good. At the back of his mind also, was an idea that he hadn’t yet dared to say out loud, even just to himself. But every now and again it would resurface in his memory and he’d wonder _what if_.

_You could just try it?_

He and Pete were both officially back-up vocalists. Joe had never sung on any of their recordings, however. It was restricted to the live show. Joe supposed it was probably out of impractically that Andy wasn’t a backup vocalist-though he probably had the best singing voice out of the three of them.

They hadn’t even started writing for the next album. But they were going to release another record later that year.

_Don’t let this one slip away like the last one did._


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mar 23, 2008 TEATRO TELETON SANTIAGO, Chile

_“This”_ Patrick huffed _“Is the only time we are_ ever _trying this, is that clear with everyone?”_

_“What Patrick, I can’t hear you over all this fucking rain”_ Andy half-shouted across the lounge, a grin on his face as he made a megaphone with his hands.

Joe had to admit, the rain really was _pounding_ down. It was bouncing nosily off the roof of the bus, creating just enough racket that it was impossible to do anything productive.

Not that they really had the energy to anyway.

_“Patrick, please pass the chips”_ Pete fully shouted, through his own _megaphone_ , causing Andy to cringe slightly, on the couch beside him, and Patrick to start.

_“Shut the fuck up, Pete”_ Patrick seemed almost overwhelmed by the din. It probably didn’t help that he’d actually _tried_ to work through the rain, the volume of his laptop being turned up gradually louder and louder, until eventually he’d snapped it closed in frustration.

_“Yes Captain”_ Pete saluted Patrick from his seat on the couch, before standing up to reach for the bowl of chips himself.

_“Oh no, if anyone’s the Captain here it’s you”_ Patrick’s eyes flashed as he looked at Pete _“You’re the one steering us down the world-record path- this storm is clearly a sign that we should never let you come up with any ideas ever again”_

_“Tell that to our VMA’s, baby”_ inexplicably the sound of Pete, crunching on the chips, could be heard, ringing out clearly, despite the severity of the weather outside.

The goal was for them to play on every single continent, within a certain period of time. If they could do it, they would be the first band ever to have done it. Currently, it was March of 2008, and for the past day they’d been racing towards a venue in Santiago, Chile. After playing a show there, the next stop was _Antarctica._

_Remember when it was a big deal just going to Canada._

_“I just want to see a penguin”_ Andy said earnestly, _“I want to play a song to and for the penguins”_

Joe was pretty sure he and Patrick snorted in sync.

_“I’d say they’d be scared away by all the noise”_ Pete said seriously. Andy caught Joe’s eye suddenly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and Joe had to work to keep his own face straight.

_“What if we played an acoustic set?”_ Andy was staring quite intently at Pete’s face-probably because, given that he wasn’t wearing his glasses, he couldn’t actually _see_ Pete without squinting.

_“Well, I mean-for one thing, there’s all the noise that would be involved in just setting up everything”_ Pete was answering this question more seriously than he did most interview questions _“They’d be scared away as soon as we landed, man. And even if they weren’t, I don’t know if an acoustic set would count for this thing. Especially after all the other shows we’ve played have been full sets. We probably shouldn’t risk it”_

_“I’m not doing it unless we play an acoustic set”_

_“What?!”_ Pete sounded scandalised. Joe bit the inside of his cheek. _“Dude, you can’t just-”_

_“I was promised penguins”_ Andy said, shrugging his shoulders _“It’s the only reason I signed on for this thing. No penguins, no me”_

_“I don’t-I guess we could…I’m pretty sure they sent me a rule book”_ Pete was scrambling off the couch to reach his cell, which was on one of the counters _“I mean, maybe it wouldn’t matter, as long as you play the tambourine or something”_

_“I left my tambourine at home”_

Pete froze, mid-type.

_“Pretty sure I brought a triangle though”_

Pete straightened up, and turned back to Andy, who was watching him, a grin on his face.

_“You absolute troll”_

_“I’ll play the triangle for all the penguins”_

_“Are there even penguins in Antarctica?”_

_“Fuck if I know”_ Andy laughed. Pete threw his cell phone at him, before collapsing back on the couch beside him.

_“Don’t_ do _that to me, man. I really want us to do this”_

_“Dude, this is ringing”_ Andy was pulling Pete’s cell out from the side of the couch, where it had fallen after hitting him.

_“How do we still have cell-service?”_ Pete glanced at his cell, then, doing a double-take, stood up, the phone in hand.

_“I better try take this”_ Pete’s eyes flickered up towards the celling-then he was slipping through the door to the bunk area, in search of some kind of quiet.

_“Imagine if we had to play an outdoor show in this weather”_ Andy was talkative-probably restless from having been cooped up inside the bus all day.

_“Obviously we couldn’t”_ Patrick replied, pushing his glasses higher up his face _“We’d probably all be electrocuted”_

_“What if we get electrocuted playing on ice in Antarctica?”  
“I presume we’re going to put down some kind of surface to play on”_

_“Imagine falling down one of those polar-bear feeding hole things”_ if this were anyone else, Joe would have been asking what it was they’d been smoking _“Guitar and all-imagine!”_

_“You’d freeze to death”_

_“Cool”_

_“Was that a pun?”_

_“What if the penguins get electrocuted?”_ Andy seemed genuinely concerned this time. Joe didn’t doubt for a second that Andy would care more about the penguins, than themselves, in this situation.

_“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you-I’m pretty sure there aren’t even penguins in Antarctica!”_

_“There are too”_

_“I mean, I don’t know but I think-”_

_“There fucking are too!”_

_“Jesus Christ, look it up then, if you’re so sure!”_

_“I know I’m right, so I don’t have to look it up”_ Andy said serenely. Joe could practically hear Patrick’s teeth grinding together _“But if you don’t believe me,_ you _look it up. I’ll forgive you for the lack of faith”_

_“Where the-Joe pass me my laptop, please!”_

* * *

 

 

Five minutes later they’d learned that there were four different breeds of penguins in Antarctica. Once Patrick realised that _March of the Penguins_ had been filmed in Antarctica, he started laughing, and then he was wheezing at his own mistake. They were just beginning to settle down when suddenly there was a bang, and Pete was back in the lounge.

_“Tell him to stop the bus”_

_“What?”_ Patrick and Andy said in unison, both sounding slightly startled, but then Pete was pushing his way through the overcrowded lounge, and through the door that led to the driver.

_“Stop the bus!”_ Pete hammered on the partition as he shouted. Joe didn’t know if their driver could see Pete, but he could certainly _hear him-_ they all could. It was probably Pete’s tone of voice more than anything else that caused their driver to promptly veer to the side of the road, coming to a horribly quick stop, tires squealing in the wet weather.

_“Pete?”_ Andy’s voice was sharp as Pete remerged from the driving cab. Joe hadn’t been able to see his face before, and he still couldn’t see it too well now. Pete’s hair was hanging down across his face, and his cheeks were flushed. Ignoring Andy, Pete strode to the door, and burst through it.

_“What the…”_ Patrick trailed off his eyes following Pete’s path. For a moment no one said anything, then they all jumped, as wind and rain started blowing in through the door that Pete hadn’t closed properly.

_“Jesus, someone close the door”_ Patrick grimaced. Joe couldn’t really hold it against him-that wind was _freezing._

_“What’s up with him?”_ Andy moved to stand in the doorframe. Partially blocking them from the wind and rain, he peered out in the semi-darkness. _“Is he trying to get better cell service?”_

_“Or he just wanted to stop”_ Patrick shrugged _“It’s Pete-maybe he wants the wind to clear his head”_

_“It’s fucking cold out there, though”_ Joe stood up, and crossed the room, joining Andy in the doorway. Joe couldn’t see Pete. Andy probably couldn’t see at _all,_ Joe realised. Andy still wasn’t wearing his glasses-his eyes were squinting, due both to his eyesight and the heavy rain, that was blowing in both their faces.

_“Should one of us go after him?”_

_“Dude, I can’t even see”_ Andy echoed Joe’s thoughts _“And I’m not wearing shoes”_

_“Okay, fuck”_ for an insane moment, Joe wondered if they’d brought any raincoats. Then he snapped himself out of it, and jumped down the steps.

Andy pulled the door shut behind him.

_Okay…fuck._ Joe didn’t even know which direction Pete had gone in. It seemed pretty unlikely, however, that he would have walked in front of the bus, and in front of their driver, so Joe turned right and headed towards the back end of their bus, the wind and rain whipping across his face.

It wasn’t totally dark yet-the only reason their manager had been sleeping in the bunk area was because extended drives were one of the rare times when he _could_ sleep. All the same, Joe found himself having to peer, in the diminishing light, to see Pete.

Pete was standing a short distance away from the bus. For a minute Joe was confused, it looked like Pete was searching for something on the ground-he was bent forward slightly, his face towards the ground. But then Joe realised that Pete was throwing up.

Joe could see now why Pete had needed to stop. This wasn’t the kind of throwing up that he could do on their bus-Pete’s entire body lurched forward as he heaved. Joe had halted in his tracks as soon as he’d realised what was happening, Pete was _vomiting_ and all. But then Pete wasn’t just lurching, he was _falling_ and Joe found himself running to close the gap between them.

He’d thought Pete had fainted. In actuality, Pete had fallen to his knees-Joe could see that his body was heaving now, and he was still throwing up.

Joe was pretty sure that Pete had landed in his own puke, but Pete was either ignorant of this, or he simply _didn’t care._

_What the fuck did he eat?_

Joe had both figuratively and _literally_ held Pete’s hair for him, as he’d puked before. But when Joe moved a hand to Pete’s upper back, seeking just to steady him, to keep him upright, Pete _recoiled_ , cringing away from his touch. Joe snapped his hand back, but Pete was already curling in on himself-the puking having subsided briefly.

Joe watched as Pete’s hands, balled up into fists, moved to frame his face. Then Pete turned his head towards Joe, probably in an attempt to get his hair out of his face, and Joe saw that Pete hadn’t just been heaving-he was sobbing. His eyes were scrunched up with tears, and even still, he was crying huge _wracking sobs_ , that shook his entire body.

_Jesus Christ_

Then Pete was turning again, and he started retching-his stomach empty but his body still reacting to whatever was affecting him.

Joe could feel gravel through the knees of his jeans-he was kneeling next to Pete, in the dirt that paved the roadside. This time when Joe moved a hand, _gently,_ to the middle of Pete’s shuddering back, Pete didn’t twist away.

When Pete eventually straightened, Joe moved the hand to Pete’s shoulder. When Pete turned his head to look at Joe and Joe saw his face, Joe almost felt like retching himself. Joe had never seen anyone’s face look quite like Pete’s did in that moment, it was honestly _frightening._

Joe wasn’t sure which one of them made the move. All he knew was that suddenly he had his arms wrapped around Pete, and that Pete was weeping against his chest. And Joe didn’t even care that, by this stage, he was probably as covered in Pete’s vomit as Pete was, because something in Pete had broken, and Joe was going to do anything he could to hold him together.

Joe didn’t know how long they stayed like that. He knew that, at some stage, he had started smoothing Pete’s hair back from his face with one hand, rubbing circles against his back with the other. He knew that he was _shushing_ Pete and that he kept saying _“it’s going to be okay”-_ to soothe Pete rather than to quiet him. He wasn’t even sure if Pete could hear him, given the shrieks of the wind around him, but he could hear Pete’s sobs-and feel them too, and Joe was pretty sure that he’d never hear a more heart-breaking sound in his life.

At some stage he realised that they should _move._ He had no idea how long they’d been out there, but his face was numb from the cold.

_How are you going to get him back in?_

_“Here”_ Joe moved back from Pete slightly, leaning back on his heels, in order to peel his hoodie off. It was definitely madness, but at the same time he _couldn’t_ make Pete go back in there without cleaning him up a bit. Joe used the hoodie to wipe his own hands, then he passed it to Pete. It was probably a testament to the desperate circumstances that Pete didn’t even comment-he simply moved the hoodie to his face, wiping his mouth, before he turned his attention to his hands.

_“Come on”_ as gently as he could, Joe pulled Pete to his feet, his arms still wrapped around his shoulders. Pete’s body was still shaking-he was in the stage where one's body is still crying, even though it has stopped producing tears. The hoodie slipped from between Pete’s, now-limp, fingers as they started walking towards the bus. Joe left it.

The reason they were all sharing a bus, instead of travelling with two as they were now accustomed to, was that it wasn’t a tour-it was just two shows they were playing. Nonetheless, this bus was fitted out with an actual bedroom and shower, the way their usual buses were, in place of a back lounge. Joe had never been more grateful for this fact than he was now.

As they approached the door, Joe realised that their manager was standing outside it. He hadn’t seen him the entire time he’d been with Pete, but he supposed he’d probably woken up when the bus stopped, and gone to investigate. Joe was glad he’d kept his distance. Pete probably wouldn’t have been able to calm down if there had been too much of a fuss made.

They got to the door, and Bob opened it for them. He helped Joe to get Pete up the steps, then they were making their way to the backroom.

They passed by Patrick and Andy in the front lounge, though they both followed them at a distance. It was when they were through the bunk area, and in the back bedroom that Joe could appreciate just what a mess Pete was in physically.

_We can’t just dump him in the shower._

There was a moment of hesitation, where neither Joe nor Bob was sure if they should start stripping Pete of his clothes. Joe was prepared to do it, but at the same time, Pete was a dead-weight in his arms, and he couldn’t ask him if it was _okay_ for him to do it.

_“I've got him”_

Suddenly Patrick was there, and he was moving Pete’s arm around his shoulder, in order to hold him up. Bob fussed, asking if he’d be able to do it by himself-surely it was too much, he’d need help moving him. But Patrick was adamant that he could manage it himself, and Joe found himself wondering if Patrick had had to do this before, or if they were just so comfortable together that he didn’t need to think twice about it.

 

* * *

 

 When Patrick emerged briefly from the room, to get Pete a pair of underwear, his own hair was wet. Joe would have asked Patrick _himself_ to stay with Pete, but, evidently, either Pete had asked himself, or Patrick had had the same thought, because once he shut the door, Patrick didn’t appear again until the next morning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i should add that i didn't make that up about the bedroom in the back of the bus. there's a video of joe giving a tour of his and pete's bus, that they had during 2007 (the video specifically was filmed during the honda civic tour) and i just thought it was hilarious, cause literally the only thing in the room is a double bed, and a shower (not a bathroom, a shower)-and idk joe brushed it off like "this is where people can sleep sometimes"-seemed pretty much like a room to actually get proper action in (and for any throam fans like myself JFC IT WAS LIKE HOW RYAN HAD A BEDROOM ALL TO HIMSELF AND JOE WAS SO JEALOUS OF IT)


End file.
